The Descendant: Baltin Trilogy (Book 1)

by Melissa Riddell

  I clap a hand over my mouth to stave off another round of chuckles. Breathy laughter sneaks between my fingers.

  “You should head out and find some replacement parts.”

  He grunts, then shoves the upper and lower corners closer to the rock. He wiggles it back and forth. “Or I shouldn’t pick up vagrants.”

  I shake my head back and forth. Seeing him uncomfortable for a change makes me want to clap my hands and jump up and down with glee. “No need to get pissy. Some people aren’t crafty. You should stick to cooking and gardening. I don’t think construction’s in your blood.”

  Once his beloved door is back in its cradle, he cracks the contraption open for Kodiak’s eventual return. Another mumble issues from his lips.

  “What was that? I can’t hear you over the rattling of the door.”

  A bump appears on the outside of his cheek from the pressure of his tongue pressing on the inside. A wicked smile appears, and he drops right next to me, way too close for comfort.

  I shift a couple of inches, suddenly alert. All feelings of mirth fly away, and my guard rises in a flash.

  He scoots his hips out a bit and shifts his torso in my direction. His knee rests an inch from my thigh.

  My mouth dries faster than a watering hole in the blistering, Texas heat. “What are you doing?”

  A hand behind his neck, he massages the muscles. “So, where you from, Red?”

  “If you refuse to use my real name, I’m not gonna answer your questions.”

  The gall. Who does he think he is?

  This close, his lashes are dark, like his eyes and hair. He sticks his finger out and makes a sign of the cross over his chest. “Cross my heart—I swear to be good if you humor me, and I’ll try to forget you insulted my crafting skills.”

  I shouldn’t tell him anything. Why does he want to know? Stop being a ninny. Any information you give him is worthless now. Alien invasion, remember? Besides, you wanted conversation, you said so yourself.

  My arms reach up in a stretch. Both shoulders release a satisfying pop. “Do you know where Callahan, Texas is?”

  “Not exactly, but I’m sure I’ve heard of it.”

  “Doubt it. The town’s a little spot on the map, no more than three thousand residents.”

  He lifts a long leg and stretches a foot, pointing the toes to the floor, then up to the ceiling. “That’s pretty small. Explains a lot.” He rubs his knee and then leans his weight on an elbow to prop his chin on the palm of a hand

  The corners of my lips curl into a pout. His comment is somehow insulting, yet I can’t discern why. “What do you mean by that?”

  That damnable dimple peeks out as if to say, ‘Here I am.’

  “Not a thing, Red”—he recovers in time to save face—“err, Tilly. Not a thing. Go on, tell me more. What were you doing on Earth’s fateful day?”

  Puckering my mouth, I fight the urge to smack him. Do I want to relay that day to him, of all people?

  His invitation feeds a growing desire to spill my story, though. It’s like the words swim in my heart, kept in place with a dam, and with one little offer to share, a piece of the barrier chips away.

  “I came home from school. It was a few weeks before graduation, so senioritis had kicked in, and my brain had pretty much checked out. That night, I was—”

  Video gaming preoccupied my night, but do I want to tell him that? He’s already called me spoiled.

  “—I was thinking about an English paper, and the power went out.” Liar. “I thought Mom had forgotten to pay the electric bill. It turns out, she didn’t. We tried using our phones and thought it was weird they’d all died at the same time.”

  In all honesty, I knew it was more than weird, so did Mom and Dad. Three phones don’t go dead all at once, along with the electricity in the whole block.

  He tilts his head toward me, eyes far away as if lost in the story.

  “So, we walked outside. The rest of the neighborhood did the same thing. Dad tried to start his motorcycle, but it wouldn’t catch. The other neighbors, seeing what he was doing, did the same thing with their cars. When not one engine turned over, I knew something cataclysmic had happened.”

  Pausing, I take a moment to regroup. The pain of those memories, of my family’s departure, causes an enormous weight to press on my chest. My throat, thick and raw with emotion, forces me to swallow a couple of times.

  A soft shake of the stick door announces Kodiak’s return.

  I hold my breath and pray it doesn’t fall again.

  Kodiak slips through the open crack, steps over the downed alien’s legs, and then backs up to give them a snuffle. He lets out a small growl and kicks dirt onto its body. Satisfied with his work, he ambles over to the newspapers and beds down.

  “Go on.” Jareth’s voice, warm and inviting, coaxes me to continue.

  I regroup my thoughts. “Our little town pulled together, neighbors helping neighbors.” A flash of Mr. Miller, the neighbor, in his garden, comes to mind. “Mamma was already an avid canner and gardener, so we had a plethora of food to barter for items we needed.”

  “So, it was good at first?”

  “Yeah. The police force in our town had teamed up with military vets and formed patrol groups. We all took turns patrolling, scavenging, and protecting property. That first year wasn’t terrible.”

  And it wasn’t so horrible. Living like our ancestors brought the little community closer together.

  “We took care of one another until the . . .”

  Jareth shifts his other leg and stretches it out. The shape of his thigh muscles ripple beneath the thick denim. Under a couple of frayed holes in the jeans, tanned skin peeks through, the color contrasting with the washed-out blue of the material.

  A deep-seated heat warms my cheeks, and I jerk my head away from the vision of his thighs to meet his gaze.

  Thankfully, he doesn’t call out my wandering eyes, but he does give me an unreadable squint.

  Damn it. How am I becoming the ogre in the room? It’s not as if I’m checking out boobs or crotches.

  Oh God, why did I think of that? The insatiable urge to lower my gaze weighs on me. I fight it with every fiber of my being.

  Concentrate, woman—get your mind out of the gutter. Remember Abilene?

  A shudder runs through me at the memory of hot breath on my skin. The pain of that night—and the sheer weight of the fear—freezes me in place.

  Out of the corner of my eye, his chest shifts, and I swear he moves a little closer.

  My heart races. A spicy, clean scent, like evergreens and soap, washes over me.

  A sense of a wild animal caught in a hunter’s trap consumes me. Inching back, I scoot my hips a foot or so to give myself breathing room.

  Insufferable. Unconscionable. Irritating—handsome man.

  This is why it’s better to hang out with dogs. Humans stir emotions that cause confusion and complications.

  Thinking of Kodiak, my gaze wanders to his sleeping form. His body now faces the wall, and long tail hangs off the pile of newspapers.

  Thanks for nothing, boy. I could use your help right about now. A distraction would be lovely.

  “What happened?” Jareth’s deep voice breathes across the fine hairs on the back of my neck. The sensation is like warm honey drizzling over my skin.

  It takes me a moment to collect myself. “You know, I really don’t want to talk about that right now. Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?” Anything if it’ll keep you out of my personal space.

  “There’s not much to say.” A hint of frost coats his words.

  “Oh, come on. You made me spill my past, it’s your turn. Quid pro quo as Hannibal Lecter would say.”

  A grimace forms on his mouth, and his jaw tightens. In the hollow of his throat, a pulse is visible.

  When I blink, the aloofness turns to something resembling pain or sorrow.

  “I already told you, I’m not a nice person. During that time, let�
��s just say I found out what kind of nice I’m not.”

  Bells of alarm ring in my head, and I shoot up.

  Oh, hell no. You did it now, girl. You shacked up with a serial killer—in a fucking cave. How stupid can you be?

  An icy chill travels my spine, and the fight-or-flight reflex makes the hair on my arms stand on end. What did he say? He’s not a nice person. At this point, I’m sure my face, covered in a sheen of fear, reflects my inner turmoil.

  Jareth breaks into a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ve learned the error of my ways. I’m not a psycho or rapist, so relax.” A shoulder shrugs. “I had to do things to survive.”

  “Didn’t we all?” I whisper but don’t sit.

  He rises then leans on the wall. His stance, comfortable and sure, oozes confidence—or arrogance. At this point, both are interchangeable when it comes to his attitude.

  Remember Kodiak, he knows danger, and the dog likes this ass.

  Arms crisscross over my chest, and the budding tension in my neck eases a bit. The true threat in here is the guy in chains.

  Jareth flashes a bright, white smile—a picture of health.

  Bet he flosses more than me.

  “Chillax, Red. I’m not going to hurt you—unless that’s something you’re into.” His eyebrows waggle.

  “Jesus.” My arms fall to my sides. “You have no shame, do you?” Still nervous, I tuck my hands into the crooks of my elbows and stare him down.

  “Oh, come now.” His dimple plays hide-n-seek. “I’ve seen the eager stares you throw my way. You’re like Little Red Riding Hood wondering how the Big Bad Wolf’s teeth might feel on her skin. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, too.” The tip of his tongue flicks out to lick his upper lip. He holds my gaze for a moment, and his eyes sparkle.

  The time has come to pay for my earlier laughter. I can’t deal with his level of crazy right now. I’ve never met anyone so—so damned arrogant and full of themselves. His lewd comment, I’ll ignore, but another word, and he’s gonna get a time out in Silentville.

  Hmm, is he deflecting? The question chips away at my brain, fueling an urge to scratch deeper at his past.

  Shaking my head and holding my hand as if to ward him off, I decide to force the conversation back to the original topic.

  “So, you’re going to leave me hanging, without sharing anything pre-aliens?” For some reason, I feel like I ’ve been tricked by a carnie at the fair to guess my weight.

  The little tooth projects a bit and touches his full bottom lip. “Yep, Red, story time’s over, and it’s time for bed.” His head tips, and a thumb traces the edge of the mysterious tattoo peeking from his forearm. Though I can’t see much, the edges are pointy, red, and outlined in black and silver.

  “You take the mattress, and I’ll keep watch, in case our new friend here is playing possum.” His head nods in the direction of the alien. “Unless you’re scared and need someone to cuddle with?”

  “You’re despicable.” The top of my foot taps the floor. “For your information, I’m also not sleeping in your bed. Absolutely no freaking way. That’s too—”

  “Too what?”

  “Personal.” I pat my gear. “I’d rather sleep here with the dog.”

  “I’m serious, Red, it’s no problem.” Concern flashes across his face. “I doubt I’ll be able to sleep much anyhow. No sense in letting a good, comfortable mattress go to waste.” The corners of his eyes crease in a soft smile.

  “Stop calling me that, damn it.”

  “Calling you what? Red?”

  “Yes. And I’m not sleeping in your bed—on your bed—whatever.” The room gets brighter from the crimson glow covering my skin.

  Does he honestly think I’m going to throw everything down and hop into his bed? Probably. With that face and attitude, I bet women used to fawn all over him back in the day—asshat.

  “You’ve already done enough for us. As soon as the sun comes up, we’ll be out of your hair.” And I pray you’ll vacate my thoughts.

  Moving to where Kodiak still lies asleep, I unroll the said sleeping bag and lay it out.

  The dog, twitching every few seconds and lost in happy dreams, is unconcerned with the plight of his human.

  Jareth’s fingers trail across a table while he moves to stand in my way. “Why the rush? If you have a concussion, you should go easy for a couple of days. Cool your heels.” He points to the securely bound alien. “Plus, it’ll give us time to see if we can crack this egg open and figure out what’s on the inside.”

  “Thanks for your concern, Doc, but after everything they’ve done to us, I don’t care what’s inside their creep bodies. It’s not smart to be monkeying around with something you don’t understand, even if it’s dead. What if you activate a tracking device?”

  This is something I should’ve worried about at the start. The idea causes a fresh burst of adrenaline to kick in. Other pods could be searching for it as we speak.

  He rubs a whiskered chin, and the rough rasp of skin on sandpaper whispers in the high-ceilinged cave. “That’s a good point, but if he has a tracker, his buddies would be here by now. You’ve seen how fast their ships move.”

  Yes, I have. If they’re monitoring him, we’d be a pile of ashes right now.

  He moves a step closer.

  Invading my space, he forces me to stumble into the wall, and my butt smashes the porous surface.

  “You sure you don’t want to stay an extra day or two?” There’s a quiet desperation in his voice, all traces of self-assurance gone.

  But I can’t believe my ears. Remembering how he mentioned leaving me on the road to die, I armor my heart. “Thought we were putting you out? You said yourself you thought about letting me die out there.” Distance between him and me is a good thing, because I’m beginning to enjoy his company too much, and that thought makes me question my sanity.

  A knot in his jaw forms and his eyes harden. Small, yellow flecks deep within the irises capture my attention before I break contact.

  My goal is still the same: survive and find Sissy.

  His words cut the silence like warm butter. “Right, Red. I wouldn’t want to saddle myself with such a scrawny girl and a smelly dog. Or should I switch those adjectives around?”

  My heart squeezes, not from the words themselves, but from the tone. Somehow, I opened a wound and have no idea how.

  God, or whoever’s up there—I forgot how trying we humans are to deal with.

  Shaking my head, I turn my back and try to not collapse from exhaustion. Running my fingers through my hair, they loosen snarls and tangles.

  While my arms rest above my head, my nose leans in for a sniff. I don’t know what he’s talking about. Now Kodiak, on the other hand, could use a long soak in a tub with lots of soap and water.

  I lie on the sleeping bag and roll onto my side to stare at the brownish-white wall.

  My face is in the path of Kodiak’s not-so-fresh dog breath. Ugh, I need to find some dog toothpaste. A yawn sneaks out and I shift my head farther from the dog’s mouth. The edges of sleep try to tug me under, but I fight the pull for a bit longer.

  That undercurrent of need in Jareth’s voice still rings in my ears and causes an ache in my chest. It’s imperative to stay tough, firm and focused on my goal. Survive and find Sissy.

  Can I offer a truce? “Jareth?”

  His voice sounds from somewhere in the back of the cave, tone flat but no longer hurt. “Yeah, Red?”

  My teeth clench. He makes it a challenge to want peace. “Thank you for what you did back there, and for feeding us. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but you’re the nicest person I’ve met so far.”

  Well, hell, I didn’t mean for that last part to slip out. But what I said is true. Compared to the psycho in Abilene, Jareth’s a choir boy.

  “Well, looky there. You do know how to thank someone.” Somehow, I can hear the smile return in his voice.

  I raise my middle finger and hope he sees th
e message that he’s number one.

  Chapter Six

  A loud chirp of birds drags me from sleep. The morning air has an autumn chill; the promise of winter not far behind. Before I squeeze my eyelids together to clear the grogginess, a glimpse of a high, rocky ceiling comes into focus.

  Where am I?

  Still lying on the floor, I open my eyes again to find the source of light in the room.

  Golden radiance peeks through vines and leaves that twine through gaps in the handmade, butt-ugly door of twigs. The illumination reveals the shape of a man.

  My eyelids close. Well, shit. Now I remember. I stifle a groan.

  Blinking the last remnants of sleep from my eyes, I lie still and squint to get a better view without drawing attention.

  Jareth crouches on the balls of his feet and inspects the alien’s body. Fiddling with something on its neck, he leans in.

  My minute movements don’t go undetected because he turns in my direction. His dark hair’s slick and smooth, not as wild as last night, though a few small curls above his ears defy confinement.

  “Well, hello there, sunshine. Thought you were going to sleep the whole morning away.” His tone is light and teasing, no glimpse of that sharp edge from last night.

  Here we go for round two. “Morning.” A groan follows my lackluster greeting. “What time is it?”

  His head shakes back and forth, that secret smile playing on his lips. “It’s breakfast time.” He gestures to a table. “Sorry it’s not hot, but I figured you needed your beauty rest. Besides, at Jareth’s Bungalow, you gotta pay for a hot breakfast.” There’s an emphasis on the word pay.

  The top of my lip curls a bit. “You’re not right, you know that?”

  His grin widens, and his teeth show between his lips.

  Stiff from lying down for so long, I rise from the sleeping bag like an old, bent crone. Turning my back to him, I stretch and yawn before making my way to the table.