by Dee, Bonnie
“What?” Ray tossed down the makeup smeared cloth. “Why didn’t you tell me that right away?” He hurried out of the media room and headed for the elevator. “How long has he been waiting? You know better, Sondra. My father must never be kept waiting. You should have interrupted the taping.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.” She hurried along beside him. “I did offer him coffee while he waited.”
“No! My father takes tea.” Ray scowled at Sondra, who would not be his personal assistant for long at this rate. It was unfortunate she knew so much about his private business. She couldn’t be fired, but that left only one alternative for her incompetence.
Ray paused in front of his office door, straightened his tie, brushed a hand through his hair and hoped there was no makeup staining his white shirt collar. He pushed open the door and entered. “Father! I wish you’d told me you were coming.”
“Wanted to surprise you.”
Algernon Brody didn’t rise to greet his son. Flanked by bodyguards on either side, he sat in the leather chair facing Ray’s desk. Algernon’s hair was more silvery than ever. His straight, strong features seemed chiseled from granite. He appeared the archetype of a stern yet wise paternal figure. His was a perfect politician’s face—or maybe the face of a god.
Ray sat down behind his desk. “How are you, sir?”
“Fine.” Piercing gray eyes gazed into Raymond’s stripping him bare. “How is your business going?”
“New converts every day, and new implants going in at the retreat center. Come election time I’ll have all the constituents you need. With these implants, there’s no chance of error. They’ll do exactly as they’re told.”
“Excellent.” The old man, and at two hundred thirty-two he was old even for a Terran, pursed his lips then released them. “What of the box I entrusted to you? Have you kept it safe as I asked?”
“Yes, sir.” Brody thought of how close he’d come to losing it forever when Mirabai Kashi had stolen it. He almost worshipped Justin Foster for returning it to him. Almost. “Do you want it now?”
“In a moment. First, I have a question for you.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Tell me the truth now, because I’ll know if you dissemble. Did you ever consider keeping the box and its contents?”
It was a Catch-22 situation. It would be a lie if Ray swore he’d never briefly considered keeping that power for himself. But if he told the truth, his father might have his head—literally. There was no good answer to the question so Ray kept silent.
Algernon chuckled. “No matter. The answer is plainly written on your face, but the fact is, you have kept the box for me, demonstrating your loyalty. I am pleased.”
Ray’s heart swelled and the tension that had tied his stomach in knots from the moment Sondra told him his father was there dissipated. “Thank you. I mean, I was happy to hold it for you, sir.”
The old man lifted a gnarled hand. “Now bring me the box.”
Raymond rose and went to the wall safe hidden behind a gilt-framed Renoir. As he punched in the code on the keypad, scanned his thumbprint then leaned in for a retinal scan, he had a sudden sick premonition that he would open the door of the safe to find nothing inside. But when he pulled the door ajar, the little box stood in the center of the safe right where he’d left it, its polished wood reflecting the dim glow within.
Ray lifted the box in both hands, carried it to the desk and placed it before his father before resuming his seat.
Algernon’s long, thin finger, tapped the top of the box. “Have you tried to look inside, I wonder? Have you dreamed about what it might contain?”
Ray cleared his throat. “I’ll admit to curiosity. It’s natural to wonder, but no, sir, I never tried to open the box.” Not that it would have done any good, because obviously you have it magically sealed with a password only you know.
“When I told you that the contents of this box held the key to ultimate power and would change the world,” the old man paused dramatically, and Ray leaned forward slightly, “I may have been slightly exaggerating.”
It took Ray a moment to realize the wheezing sound coming from his father’s lips was laughter.
“Actually, I may have been exaggerating a lot. Do you want to know what you have been guarding so diligently?”
Gas rumbled in Ray’s stomach, he choked back the sour taste as it rose in his throat. “Yes, sir.”
The old man muttered an indecipherable word, then his long-fingered hands lifted the lid of the box. Inside was even more smooth, polished wood, and that was all. The box was empty.
For a moment, Ray panicked. He wondered if Justin Foster had given him the decoy box instead of the real one. His father would kill him now. Then Algernon gave another dry wheeze and Raymond understood. There’d never been anything in the box. All the agonizing and trouble he’d gone through in wresting the box back from the KOTE people had been for a box filled with nothing.
He stared into the empty compartment for another few seconds then raised his gaze to his father’s amused face. “Why?”
Algernon’s laughter subsided. “To test you, son. You’ve been clamoring for me to take you on, to put you at my right hand and share my power with you. I had to know, once and for all, if you were worthy of being my heir. I knew it would be very tempting for you to try to seize power for yourself, but you didn’t. You remained loyal to me, and that’s a rare commodity.”
“Yes, sir.” Beneath his desk, Ray picked at a loose thread on his pants. He hated snags. They were unsightly. He would change to a fresh suit as soon as his father left, but meanwhile his fingers picked and picked.
“I’m sure you’ll forgive me for putting you through this little test. You’ll admit your track record for dependability has been less than stellar.”
Algernon leaned back in his chair, the leather making a creaking sound as he shifted. He steepled his fingers under his chin and Ray realized for the first time that he copied his father’s mannerism.
Ray nodded. Before founding the Center for Human Wellbeing, he’d spent many years enjoying the fruits of his father’s wealth—drinking, drugs, sex, gambling. He’d wasted fortunes before Algernon finally cut him off.
“I’ve been pleased by your efforts to secure voters for me, but before taking you further into my confidence, I wanted to be absolutely sure of you. Now I am.”
“I’m glad, sir.” Ray’s fingers moved convulsively against the slick pants fabric. The dangling thread was driving him crazy. In his mind it took on the proportions of an iron rod he must sever.
“So.” All trace of amusement was erased from Algernon’s face; his eyes sharpened beneath their jutting white brows. “Very soon now I’ll show you what I’ve been working on. Winning the next presidential election is only part of my ultimate plan. By the time we’re finished, the whole world will be at our feet.” His eyes closed part way as though seeing his victory and savoring it. “The structure of the global economy and the organization of world leadership will be completely rearranged.”
Opening his eyes, he leaned forward and stared at Ray. “The humans will beg me to take control of things. KOTE will be no more than a nipping flea at our flanks. I will assume the mantle of power. And you, boy, will sit at my right hand.”
“Yes, Father.” Ray stopped picking at the thread.
“Very well then.” Algernon stood quickly. Age hadn’t slowed him and, if anything, his strength seemed to be increasing. “I shall contact you soon. Meanwhile, continue to do as you have been, gathering voters for my campaign. Very soon I’ll announce my candidacy. In these jaded times when neither political party can appease the people, I’ll be all things to all constituents.” He smiled at Ray. “And with the help of your block of voters, I’ll easily gain the White House.” He held out his hand.
Ray rose and took it. His father’s skin was papery dry, but his grip was strong.
Without another word, Algernon turned to leave, flanked by his silent bodyguards.
The door closed behind him and Ray stood staring at it for a full minute. Then he gazed down into the empty box for a minute more. A test. All the dread and panic over this box for nothing but a stupid test. He gently closed the lid of the box then hefted it in his hand. “Should have known it was empty. It’s so light,” he whispered.
Cocking his arm, he hurled the box across the room. Whatever protective spell had surrounded it was gone and now it was simply a wooden box. It hit the mahogany paneled wall and shattered, pieces raining onto the carpet.
“Your own son! Why did you have to test me? Why couldn’t you just trust me?”
He looked down at his navy blue pants and the little snag that had grown to two inches due to his picking. Opening a desk drawer, he fumbled through it until he found a tiny pair of manicure scissors, smoothed the fabric and clipped the offending thread.
But it was too late. The snag was clearly visible. The pants ruined.
Ray walked from the office into his bedroom suite and opened his closet door to reveal a rack of suits, shirts and shoes. He chose a charcoal gray one, inspecting it carefully and removing tiny bits of white lint.
Why should he be his father’s right hand? Why should he deliver votes to Algernon’s campaign and take orders and tests for the rest of his life? Ray had power of his own now. People followed him. He would be a fool to give that control to his father. Why had he believed it was his only option?
After removing his blue pants, he dressed in the gray ones, tucked in his shirt, fastened his belt and slipped on his polished loafers.
Father was right about one thing. In these times, people were looking for a new party and a dark horse candidate they could believe in and trust. A charismatic figure everyone already admired would make a perfect politician.
Putting his arms in the sleeves of the new suit jacket, he checked to make sure that exactly a half-inch of white cuff showed at the bottom of the sleeves. “President Raymond Brody,” he muttered, as he knotted a burgundy tie around his neck. “Will the Senate and Members of the House please rise for the President of the United States.”
Ray smoothed his lapels and checked again for stray lint. He’d have to be clever and careful to stage this coup. He needed to learn more about his father’s latest plan and become intimately acquainted with his inner circle to find out who was loyal and who could be turned. Then, when the time was right, he’d make his move, announce his candidacy and defy his father.
The old regime must die and a new sun rise. Ray smiled. He liked the play on words. Sun rise. Son rise. There was something almost messianic about it.
He turned and walked out of the office on his way to meet the local ecumenical group, quietly humming Hail to the Chief.
Chapter Three
As she stood in the terminal and watched the passengers departing flight 251, Elyse was as excited as a teenager waiting for her prom date to show. It was ridiculous to feel so eager. Justin hated her now. If Brody didn’t have complete control over him, the Protector would kill her as soon as look at her.
Yet somehow the knowledge of his anger and the lethal power in his big hands only turned her on. The truth was, she couldn’t wait to see him again. Memories of Justin’s sweat-slicked skin, his groans of desire, his hot, panting mouth invaded her mind. Elyse was so aroused she pressed her thighs tightly together to control the rhythmic pulsing of her pussy.
Then she saw him striding through the gate, his sandy hair and broad shoulders a foot taller than the rest of the crowd. His blue-green gaze scanned the people waiting in the airport then snagged on her and stopped. His body stopped moving as well, as he stared at her for several long moments before walking toward her.
A delicious flutter of fear tickled her belly. What if he simply strode across the terminal, grabbed her throat and proceeded to choke her to death? In a flash, she pictured the lovely fight they’d have, how she’d hook her leg around his calf, break his grip on her throat and flip him onto his back. They would punch and wrestle and throw each other around, breaking things and knocking airport passengers out of their way like bowling pins.
Justin stopped a yard in front of her, his carry-on case dangling from one shoulder, the other hand slack at his side.
Elyse held out her hand. “Justin.”
He stared at her extended hand, but didn’t take it. “Brody tells me you’re the head of some new project. Congratulations. I guess it was the promotion you were working toward when you fucked me over and got Trina kidnapped.”
She lowered her hand. “You remember when we first met? I warned you not to trust me.”
“I thought you were flirting. Didn’t know I was supposed to take it literally.” He strode past her toward the baggage claim.
She fell into step by his side. “I was flirting, but I was also telling you the truth. Sorry it had to end up the way it did. I really enjoyed … everything we did together.”
Justin stopped so suddenly she walked several paces past him and had to turn to face him.
“Where is Trina?” he demanded. “You know, don’t you? What has Brody done with her?”
“I honestly don’t know.” Elyse held her hands palms up. “I’m not part of his inner circle. Besides, he wouldn’t put me anywhere near you if I had that kind of knowledge.”
Justin’s eyes narrowed and the muscle in his tightened jaw ticked. He looked so hot when he was angry a shiver ran up her spine and her breasts tingled.
He stalked past her again.
At the baggage claim, they waited and watched the stream of luggage pass by.
“You know, I was just doing my job,” Elyse said. “All I did was pass on information to Brody.”
“My address. The security code for my house. And the knowledge Trina existed and could be used to control me.” His sexy jaw muscle bulged and leaped some more. Elyse couldn’t take her eyes from it.
“Hey, my boss asked me to provide information. I gave him the kind of leverage he was looking for. Strictly business. He won’t hurt her. Eventually, you’ll get her back.”
She didn’t know if that last bit was true, but wanted to calm him.
He glared at the passing bags then stepped forward and lifted a large black bag from the conveyor. No wimpy-wheeled carrier for Justin. He slung the duffle over his shoulder and followed her toward the parking lot. “Did you tell the truth about anything? Who are you really?”
“Yes. I absolutely told the truth. I just didn’t tell you the whole story. My mother was an Earth Keeper like I said and my father, a Protector. But he wasn’t what you’d think of as a Protector. He would give his life to keep my mother safe, but also did things that would make people like you call him a Destroyer.”
“Then he wasn’t a Protector at all. He was a Destroyer.”
She swallowed the anger his words inspired. “Like you are now, Justin, after what you’ve done. You KOTE types like to think you’re so different, but we’re all Terrans. I’ve lived on both sides, and, trust me, the line isn’t so clear.”
He stopped walking as they approached the glass doors of the terminal and stared at her with eyes like the ocean, changeable and turbulent. “What the hell happened to make you like you are?”
Elyse felt stripped bare under his gaze, and not in a sexy way. She didn’t like how his eyes made her feel weak and vulnerable, so she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.
“First, there’s nothing wrong with the way I am. Second, it’s none of your damn business. And third, since you asked so nicely, here’s the story. My mother raised me. My father came and went. Sometimes he lived with us, and my parents tried to make it work. Other times he’d take off for a while. My mom was pretty depressed, being a holier-than-thou Keeper shacked up with a Destroyer. Her family cut her off. When she died, I was supposed to go live with my grandparents, but before they came to get me, my dad took me away. I lived with him after that.”
“Well, that explains a lot. Kind of wish you hadn’t left out that part of the stor
y before. I might have had enough sense to steer clear of you,” he said dryly.
“Baby, once you saw me, nothing could’ve kept you away.” She stepped in close to him, feeling the heat rolling off his body and breathing in the air of danger he exuded. God, she could feel how much he hated … and desired her.
He rolled his eyes at her, hefted his bag more securely over his shoulder and walked out of the building into the bright sunlight.
The desert heat made the outdoors dry as an oven. Elyse was sweating by the time they reached her car.
“You drive a Prius?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Hey, you think I don’t care about the environment? I have to live in the world too, you know. Besides it gets excellent mileage and with gas prices the way they are…”
Justin snorted, tossed his bag in the back and slid into the passenger seat. “You know you’re fucking nuts, right? You and all your kind. You wreck the world then complain about it.”
“Well, at least my kind aren’t a bunch of self-righteous pricks.” Elyse turned on the engine. “Besides, you’re no saint, Justin. You play too rough and nasty for that.”
She shot him a half-lidded, bedroom-eyes look calculated to remind him of all the perverse things they’d done together. She ran her finger along the low neckline of her top, drawing his attention to her ample cleavage and the delicate tattoo of scars he’d imprinted on her breasts one night. The fact that her Terran healing hadn’t completely eliminated traces of the cuts showed how deep they’d been.
Justin glanced at her chest then to her lips before quickly looking away again. He stared out the side window of the vehicle all the way to the Center for Human Wellbeing offices on the other side of town.
There were still several hours before they were supposed to meet Brody to discuss the special project. Elyse had planned to use the time to work on her seduction of Justin, but he was silent, refusing to respond to her attempts to draw him out.
They sat together in the reception area of the Center as minutes ticked past. Elyse leafed through a fashion magazine. Justin propped his feet on top of his bag, arms folded over his chest and stared at the floor. She stole glances at his long, jeans-clad legs, one crossed over the other, ending in big black boots. She’d forgotten how lanky his limbs were, but hadn’t forgotten how they felt wrapped around her. The hot sun shining through the window, the proximity of his body and his musky male scent combined to make her horny as hell. Her skin was prickly as if she had a fever. Her pussy was so tender and achy she could hardly sit still.