by Cara Bristol
I have claustrophobia. Seeing the tight space triggered the faint. I didn’t realize your med pod would be so…tiny, enclosed. I can’t climb in there. It would trigger a full-on panic attack.
The pod occupied almost the entire dining room. The unit had been designed to accommodate large beings—like Avians with wings or shapeshifting Xenos. Phobias, by nature, weren’t rational. Fears were blown out of proportion to the threat. Although his consciousness hovered at a surface level, he should have been able to sense her anxiety before she passed out. That he’d gotten no forewarning suggested the phobia might be deep-seated.
She took a deep breath and exhaled. You can release me now. I’m okay.
Maybe you should wait in the other room during my scan. It won’t take long.
Please. I’m okay. She peered up at him. I would like to watch.
He was proud of her for wanting to stay. Maybe seeing the unit in operation would alleviate her anxiety, although he realized the chances of getting her to climb into the med pod to diagnose and treat her vocal issues were about nil at this point.
Psy said aloud for Tigre’s benefit, “She’s feeling better. I suggested she wait in the other room, but she intends to stay.”
“I’ll take good care of her.”
Psy tapped instructions into the screen. “I’m programming a full diagnostic scan with orders to treat any anomalies.” He eased into the pod and stretched out. He extended his hand, and Cassie clasped it. “I’ll be done in less than a minute. You’ll be able to watch me the whole time.”
I wonder if I’ll ever stop embarrassing myself in front of you.
Nothing to be embarrassed about. He meant it. She had no idea the dark and distorted thoughts some people had.
“Okay?” Tigre asked.
He squeezed her hand, and she stepped back. “Okay,” he said.
The lid slid shut. The machine whirred as the diagnostic beam swept over him from head to toe. He closed his eyes against the brightness, reopening them moments later as the light dimmed.
“Hmm. It appears he has acquired a contagion,” he heard Tigre say.
A robotic arm swiveled out and delivered an injection into his arm. Within seconds, the achiness and fatigue began to ease. His jaw didn’t throb as much, and, when he patted his face, he could tell the swelling was subsiding.
Long seconds ticked by as Psy waited for the unit to release him.
A contagion, Tigre had said. Did that mean his mating glands hadn’t been activated? Disappointment and dejection threatened to settle upon him, but he shoved the emotions aside. He didn’t need a physical response to confirm he and Cassie were genmates. Their mental connection served as proof. On the rare chance they didn’t share the same mating gene, well, he didn’t care. He wanted her. Nobody else.
“What’s taking so long?” he yelled to be heard through the capsule.
“You’re under quarantine while the antiviral destroys the virus you acquired,” Tigre said.
“For how long?”
“A few minutes.”
Finally, the machine rescanned him, pronounced him free of the virus, and rolled back the cover. He leaped out with newfound ease. He hadn’t realized how achy he’d been until he no longer was.
The swelling in your face and neck are gone! Cassie said. Amazing. Nothing we have comes close to your med pod.
“I’m sorry,” Tigre said. “You did have the mumps.”
Psy shook his head. “Nothing has changed. We’re still genmates. I feel it in here.” He tapped his head and his heart and then held out his arm and pulled Cassie to his side. “Thankfully Verna stopped us from going to Millie’s diner. I could have infected other people.” He looked at Tigre. “I might have infected you. You should get scanned.”
They waited until the pod disinfected itself, and then Tigre climbed in. Psy watched the screen as the red light flashed signaling a contagion had been detected. Tigre was treated and released.
“Everyone I came in contact with will need to be treated,” he said, relieved Cassie had had inoculations, since getting into the med pod would be impossible for her.
“Who have you been in contact within the past few weeks?” Tigre said.
“Chameleon, Kevanne, Inferno, Wingman, and Delia—everyone except Shadow.”
“I’ll phone them to come in for a scan.” After Tigre left, Psy turned to Cassie. Are you ready to go to Millie’s?
I should eat something, but I don’t feel like going out.
We’ll do that another time, then. How about if we prepare something to eat here?
Perfect. Can you cook? she asked.
Yes! I microwave frozen and canned dinners all the time. Most food on ’Topia had been lab formulated for maximum nutrition. Little value had been placed on taste. It wasn’t until they’d arrived on Earth that they realized food could taste good.
She giggled. That’s not cooking.
It’s not?
Let me handle this. Show me your kitchen, she said confidently.
She bustled around the kitchen, throwing together ingredients he never would have combined. In no time, a pot bubbled on the stove, releasing delicious aromas. Maybe Tigre would like to join us for dinner? she suggested, as Psy set the table and poured them some drinks.
He kissed her. That’s sweet of you to ask. He probably would. He knew his friend had cleared out so he and Cassie could be alone. After setting another place, he went to Tigre’s room. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”
“I’ve been smelling it.” Tigre’s stomach growled. “I was hoping you’d ask.”
Cassie’s meal tasted even better than it smelled. Psy had asked her for permission to convey her comments to Tigre so she wouldn’t have to interrupt her meal by writing. She agreed, but none of them spoke much, instead focused on eating the delicious food. While she consumed a modest amount, he and Tigre finished it off.
“That was the best meal I ever had!” Tigre praised her.
“It was fantastic,” Psy agreed, feeling deliciously sated and full.
Cassie downplayed her accomplishment with a shrug. I threw together some canned stuff. If you thought that was good, you should see what I can do with fresh ingredients. My lasagna is to die for, if I do say so myself. I’d cook for you anytime.
She radiated sincerity. Cooking did make her happy, and he loved her confidence.
After assisting with the cleanup, Tigre thanked her profusely, excused himself, and retreated so they could be alone again. She and Psy retired to the living room to sit on the sofa.
I meant what I said. I’d love to cook for all of you. She had enjoyed being in charge in the kitchen. When she cooked at home, she had to do things Rosalie’s way.
Four of us live here. When Chameleon and Wingman visit with their mates, then there’s nine, including Izzy.
No problem. The more the merrier.
It’s a lot of work.
It’s not work if I enjoy it. Her mouth curved wistfully. I always wished for a big, close family. But it was the two of us, and we kept to ourselves. Did you come from a big family?
I had one brother and one sister. They were mated and each had two children. They all died in the bombardment.
I’m so sorry. I can’t begin to imagine the heartbreak of losing so many people.
Nothing can replace what we lost, but the experience brought the six of us closer. We were strangers when we boarded the Castaway and fled. Now we’re family. Tigre, Chameleon, Wingman, Inferno, Shadow—they’re brothers of my heart.
And four of you live in this farmhouse together?
Yes. Chameleon and Wingman live with their mates.
When they’d first arrived on Earth, they’d all lived on the Castaway. After making contact with tech magnate Edwin Mysk, who turned out to be ’Topian, they’d moved the ship to his manufacturing plant in Seattle, Washington and rented the farmhouse. By that time, Chameleon had married Kevanne and moved to the lavender farm. A couple of months later, Wingman met Delia and her d
aughter Izzy. When the two of them married, he moved into their home. Psy was happy for his brothers, but with each departure, the farmhouse grew a little quieter, a little lonelier.
With Cassie here at his side, loneliness evaporated. Now he had a genmate, too! Nothing could compare to that emotional and mental bond.
Tell me more about genmates, she said.
Our programming necessitates we find someone with a receptive DNA. Genmates are two halves of a whole. When we meet, we bond instantly.
How can I be your genmate, then? I’m human—you’re not.
’Topians are a little bit human—and a mishmash of many other species. And you may, in fact, have some alien DNA. The ’Topian project was a genetic experiment. The Xeno Consortium collected DNA from across the Milky Way, created life in the laboratory, and then seeded terraformed planets. Earth had been a DNA donor world. Chameleon—formerly a member of the Xeno High Council, believes the consortium tinkered with human genetics when they collected DNA samples.
Do ’Topians have to mate with a genmate?
To form a deep, lifelong bond—yes. Otherwise, the union is shallow. It feels like something vital is missing.
The longing to mate had been programmed into them. Vaporians like Shadow had to mate. If they didn’t, they would die young.
He remembered how much Cassie longed for romance. Humans valued choice. They preferred to choose their mates—although from what he’d heard, most of them chose badly. Genmates got it right the first time. Every time. There was no stronger bond than between genmates.
That must be why I’ve developed such strong feelings for you in such a short period of time, she said. I am so sorry for my reaction yesterday. I sense your emotions now, and I know you don’t look down on me—
Never. He leaned in and kissed her, lips and tongue caressing. He slipped a hand under the heavy swath of her hair. She melted against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He shifted and pulled her onto his lap, the better to hold her, to get closer. His desire for physical contact continued to grow, surprising him with its urgency. The mental bonding imperative he understood, but the physical was new to him.
I was afraid you might think we’re moving too fast, he said.
My life had stalled. I have a whole lot of catching up to do, so fast is just the right speed as far as I’m concerned. I want to experience as much as I can as quickly as I can. She stroked his face while staring into his eyes, sending tingles of desire straight to his groin.
With a groan, he captured her mouth again. Minds and desires joined in tandem. He could sense her physical need, her wonder, her tender feelings, and it heightened his. Her fingers traced his jawline, which she followed up with kisses. It amazes me how fast you healed in the med pod. I’m sorry for how I freaked. I’ve always suffered from claustrophobia, and the pod brought on a vision of being in a dark, tight space. Random objects, smells, sights will trigger familiarity and a strong emotion, but then the sensation disappears.
He stroked her hair, and she relaxed against him. Do the visions happen often?
Not so much anymore—although I had one earlier this week.
What was that one? If you want to tell me, I mean.
I saw a cookie jar. Her eyes rolled upward as she showed him a mental picture of a blue-green vessel shaped like a teddy bear.
I always suspected the visions were real and not hallucinations, but I didn’t have evidence until Verna bought the cookie jar at an estate auction. When I spotted the bear, I got an image of the jar in a kitchen. Then I had proof.
But you saw the canister first, he said gently. It wasn’t like you had the vision and then came across—
No. She shook her head vigorously. The kitchen and the cookie jar were real! But the vision evaporated, and now I don’t have the jar anymore, either. Her shoulders slumped. My mom accidentally broke it.
He could feel her loss, her frustration, resentment. It wasn’t an accident?
I want to believe she wouldn’t destroy something important to me, but she thought it was ugly. And Verna gave it to me. She dislikes Verna and that I work for her.
It sounded like there wasn’t much Rosalie did like. Including him, he recalled. She’d acted pleasant. He’d never gotten an inkling of antipathy. That must be rough, he said noncommittally. It would be wrong to pass judgment so soon or to drive a wedge between mother and daughter.
I’m tired of living by her rules, of tiptoeing around so I don’t upset her—she gets hurt at the slightest criticism and feels rejected. I want my own place. She squared her shoulders and twisted her mouth. There—I finally said it. I want to move out!
It seems like a simple matter to get your own place.
She shook her head. It wasn’t so simple. She’s my legal guardian. I need her permission.
She won’t give it?
I don’t think she would prevent me from doing it… Cassie took a deep breath and exhaled. However, it won’t be a pretty scene. I hate confrontation. I’ve realized I must sever the guardianship—so I can decide my own fate. I’m tired of having to fight every time I try to do something new. I need to hire a lawyer, but I don’t have the money yet. I’ve been saving up. My plan is to take my emancipation step-by-step.
Living in my own place will demonstrate I can take care of myself. And who knows? Maybe if Mom sees I can live on my own and support myself, she’ll be more inclined to agree I don’t need a guardian. Cassie wished to avoid a big court battle. It would be much easier if she and her mother could just come to terms.
When do you plan to move out?
Soon. I’ve been giving her time to adjust to me working. I don’t want to hit her with everything all at once.
Psy hugged her. Your mother loves you. She might balk, but in the end, she’ll do what’s best for you. All parents do.
I’ve never doubted her love, and I love her. I was deemed a “special needs” child, and she became very protective. The behavior is so engrained, she doesn’t know how to act any other way. She gazed into his eyes. Until I got my job and met you, the situation didn’t bother me so much, but now it does. I’m anxious to live my life, but I recognize I need to stick to the plan and give her time to catch up to where I am. She wiggled on his lap and wrapped her arms tight around his neck. Tingles shot through him. Enough about my mom; let’s change the subject…
Math? Geography? he teased.
Us. Their breath mingled before she pressed her lips to his.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue entwining with hers. He stroked her hair then drew his hand downward to cup her breast. Her nipple formed a hard bead against his palm.
She kissed his throat. The simple touch of her lips wound the coils of desire tighter and tighter. His reaction to her went well beyond the physical. The rightness of being with her, the sense of completion filled with him with wonder. He didn’t need swelling mating glands to confirm they were genmates. His cock was swollen enough.
He lowered mental shields so she would understand his intentions. I wish to complete our union physically. Then our bonding will be complete.
I want that, too. She hesitated. Can a ’Topian get a human pregnant?
If they are genmates, yes.
She sighed. I’m not on any birth control. There wasn’t any need for me to be. I would love to have children, a big family—but not while I still have so many other goals to accomplish. Tomorrow I can call my doctor and schedule an appointment, but in the meantime, maybe you could go to the drugstore and buy some condoms?
I’ll do that tomorrow. He’d be at the drugstore the instant it opened. Physical and mental desire burned hot within him. As much as he couldn’t wait for the full completion of mind and body, he wasn’t ready for children, either. Can we still kiss?
Absolutely! She encircled his neck and pressed her lips to his.
Chapter Ten
Steeling herself for confrontation, Cassie let herself into the house. She intended to come clean. She had no choice, really.
>
A heavy make-out session had left her face and lips tingly. Her mother would notice the whisker burn and realize she hadn’t spent the evening working. Avoidance didn’t solve any problems anyway. To become independent, she would have to act independent. Stand up for herself. She shouldn’t have lied in the first place.
She’d expected her mother to be watching TV but found her on the computer in her office.
Cassie had her confession planned out in her head. All she had to do was write it.
Once again, it struck her how much simpler speaking would be. Psy had been right. She should get her voice checked out. If something had changed for the better—either her vocal cords or medical advances—it would be stupid not to take advantage of it. She couldn’t let fear keep her from living her life. When she saw her doctor for birth control, she would ask for a referral to a voice specialist.
Her back to the door, Rosalie hunched over an email from Rachel, a high school friend. Cassie didn’t intentionally read the message, but since she gravitated to the written word, and the message was on the screen, she couldn’t avoid seeing the email header.
She padded across the carpet and touched her shoulder. Rosalie jumped about a foot, slammed the lid on the laptop, and spun around. “You scared me!”
She pressed a hand to her chest in apology.
Her mother recovered from the fright and narrowed her eyes. “How was work? Did you get everything done?”
Cassie removed her notebook from around her neck. I wasn’t at work.
“Oh?”
I had another date with Psy.
“You said you weren’t going to see him anymore.”
I changed my mind. I like him.
Rosalie said nothing.
I didn’t want to lie to you.
“So you lied when you told me you had to work late.”
Cassie nodded. That was wrong. I was afraid you’d give me a hard time.
“I’m very disappointed.” A horseshoe-shaped wrinkle formed between Rosalie’s eyes, bright turquoise today. “I’m only watching out for you. I don’t trust him.”
You should trust me, trust my judgment.