by S. E. Smith
“And the underlying code threaded within it,” he chuckled.
Her hand trembled as she placed her mug on the coffee table. She touched the wristband lying beside it and the screen she had been studying minutes before reappeared. Her gaze followed the binary language.
“You asked me what happened. The woman was my mom. She knew I was different—and loved me all the more for it. She loved going to our local library, and I remember her looking up books about the things I could see. She was trying to understand me—and help me. No one understood who I was or what I could do—at least not at first, but once my dad realized how much money he could make from using my gift…. That’s what my mom called my ability—a gift…,” her voice faded.
She reached out to touch the holographic screen. Lines of code marked her skin like tattoos. She turned her hand until they showed up against her palm. Mixed among the ones and zeros was the mark that had appeared the night she and Derik had touched. Her fingers curled into a fist and she pulled her hand away, dropping it in her lap.
“My dad wasn’t all that smart about how he used me to get rich, and if I refused to help him, he would lock me in the closet, start drinking, and beat on my mom. He’d tell me that it was my fault, though he hit her whenever he felt like it, not just when he was frustrated with me, but he said… he kept promising that if I did what I was told that he wouldn’t hurt her anymore,” she quietly shared.
“Your father…. He is no longer alive?” he asked.
Runt sneered and shook her head. She absently studied the code in front of her, one part of her brain registering the information it depicted while another part was arrested by the distant memories of her childhood.
“No, he crossed the wrong person. I’m pretty sure what happened is Left-hand Lou—that’s what my dad was called—overheard DiMaggio talking about Boris Avilov, and Lou made the mistake of thinking a Russian billionaire wouldn’t miss a few hundred grand—or be able to figure out where it went. Even if he did, he lived on the other side of the world, so Lou thought he’d be safe. Thinking wasn’t Lou’s strong suit,” she bitterly chuckled.
“What happened next?” Derik asked.
“Well, if there was one thing Lou did well, it was bragging. He told anyone who would listen that I was his not-so-secret weapon. He flaunted the money he had stolen—and spouted off about who he’d embezzled the money from. If Avilov hadn’t killed him, someone else would have. It was only a matter of time. In the end, I was glad he was gone. The world is a better place without him in it,” she said in a voice devoid of emotion.
“Amelia….” Derik said compassionately, reaching for her hand.
She shook her head and stood up, stepping around the coffee table with a burst of nervous energy. She turned to face him. Her face felt stiff. She was surprised to see that he had risen to his feet as well. Standing across from him, she was once again conscious of how tall he was compared to her, a good foot taller than she was, but she didn’t feel the least bit intimidated or overwhelmed by him.
“My name’s Runt, Derik. I don’t go by Amelia anymore. That… that was what my mom called me,” she quietly insisted.
“You are more than a hacker to me, Amelia. You are a beautiful woman who has seen and dealt with more things than you should ever have had to endure, but that’s not all you are, either. You don’t have to cut yourself into pieces,” he said, his voice earnest and loving.
She warily held his gaze as he stepped around the coffee table until he was standing close to her. She shivered when he reached out and tenderly ran his hands up along her arms. The warmth of his body drew her closer.
“My mom used to tell me that it isn’t what happens to you in life, it’s how you deal with it that matters,” she murmured.
He touched the smooth skin of her neck, and she softly gasped when her body reacted to his tantalizing touch. He applied the slightest bit of pressure to the back of her neck and her body eagerly pressed against his. She lowered her gaze to his lips.
“Kiss me,” she breathed.
She hadn’t planned to say that out loud, but with the need surging through her, she was standing by her unexpected request. She looked unflinchingly into his eyes, and mentally challenged him—and herself—to find out if what she’d felt in their previous kisses was just… surprise at being kissed on the lips for the first time ever and then French kissed for the first time ever. He smiled, lowered his head, and captured her lips. She could sense the tight control he was trying to exert over his raging hunger.
She wanted more. As she parted her lips beneath his, she slid her hands up along his arms. Her eyes remained open as she focused on the sensations sweeping through her, processing them and trying to understand why he had this effect on her.
He was warm and hard, and he tasted so good. She could feel his biceps flexing as they kissed. He was also very solid, she noted with added pleasure.
His eyes changed colors as their kiss deepened. The swirling silver reminded her of storm clouds before a heavy snow in winter. Tiny flames danced in the middle of his pupils. Her fingers played with the soft strands of hair along his nape until she felt the chain he was wearing.
She stiffened when reality reared its ugly head through the haze of her desire. Derik reluctantly released her lips when he sensed the change in her. Slowly she pulled the necklace free from his black shirt, and her gaze lowered to the silver locket.
He reached up to undo the clasp, but she stopped him, interlacing her fingers with his. She pulled his hand back down between them, and stroked the locket in her other hand. She licked her tingling lips and stared at the locket for several seconds as she fought to organize her chaotic thoughts into an understandable reason for what she was about to say.
“Keep it. I want you… to keep it safe for me,” she whispered in an uneven voice.
“Amelia….”
His voice faded when she shook her head and looked up at him. Her eyes burned, but no tears came. She took in a deep breath and shook her head more firmly this time.
“Don’t get attached to me, Derik. People… people who get too close to me….” She released the locket and slid her hand down his chest and to the spot on his side where he had been wounded. “People who get too close to me get hurt. Go back to your world before it happens to you… again. You… you might not be so lucky the next time,” she forced out in a voice that grew harder and more determined as she spoke.
“Amelia…,” he protested.
“No. Earlier you asked me what you could do to help me. You can leave. I can’t be watching over your ass, and you know what happens to your kind if you get caught. This world isn’t ready for aliens, Derik, and neither am I,” she said, stepping away from him.
“Liar,” he growled, closing the distance between them. “I’ve seen inside your mind. I’ve felt your touch. You wanted me to kiss you as much as I wanted it.”
She looked him in the eye and nodded. “Yes, I did. You’re a nice guy—kinda cute, too, for an alien and all. I’m still young—too young to be in this kind of relationship with anyone. My mom….” She stopped and looked down at the locket glimmering against his black shirt. “My mom was my age when she met my dad. She never had a chance to discover the world. I… I’ve got things I want to do and being tied down isn’t one of them,” she said, looking back up at him.
“I can show you the world—my world. I can show you the universe! What we have is very special, Amelia. You have no idea what it means to a Prime warrior—to me—to find my bond mate. We are destined to be together,” he implored.
She took another step back when he reached for her. As much as she wanted to believe him, the memories of her mother’s bruised face and despondent voice reminded her that her father had promised the same thing. She didn’t think Derik was anything like her father, but….
“If you really want what is best for me, then you’ll go home, Derik,” she quietly instructed.
Turning around, she scooped up her wrist
band and mug of hot chocolate from the coffee table. She could feel Derik’s denial. The intensity of his emotions—concealed on the outside, but raw on the inside—shook her. Their connection was growing stronger. Afraid he would be able to sense the matching pain coursing through her; she shielded her thoughts as she hurriedly exited the room.
Chapter Fourteen
Across town, Afon sat at his desk, deep in thought. Ramon DiMaggio was right—there was something off about the public image of Cosmos Raines. Fortunately for Afon, he knew the real man behind the persona of the geeky billionaire. Cosmos Raines was as dangerous as he was brilliant.
There was a brief knock at his office door and Afon turned in his chair to look as the door opened. Marcelo’s expression was carefully crafted to hide his emotions. The man did an excellent job, but they had known each other a long time and Afon could sense his curiosity. Marcelo must have overheard DiMaggio’s alien vampire reference.
“What is it, Marcelo?” he asked.
“Mr. DiMaggio has left the premises. I’ve assigned a surveillance team to him—discretely, of course,” Marcelo replied.
“Very good,” Afon responded.
“Do you need anything else this evening?” Marcelo inquired.
Afon shook his head. “No,” he answered, then a moment later he said, “On second thought, I want you to double check our security and add a few more men.”
“I’ll do it immediately. I wanted to check in with the guards to make sure everything is as it should be and will oversee the added security myself,” Marcelo said.
Afon gave Marcelo a sharp nod in response, and Marcelo closed the door. He swiveled his chair around to face the windows. In his mind, he replayed everything DiMaggio had shared.
The man will have to be dealt with, he thought with distaste.
He returned his attention to the report he had been reading before DiMaggio’s visit. He fingered the envelope in front of him before he withdrew the packet of papers. Stapled to the top document was a picture of a non-human male’s flaming silver eyes, full of rage and a silent promise of retribution. Afon swallowed, and goosebumps shivered down his arms.
He slowly scanned the report, which included images—some sharply focused, others grainy—that reminded him of his former life—a life that had drawn him into contact with some of the darkest elements of humanity. A life that he had fought hard to leave behind once he found a reason to do so.
Avilov had been planning to have him eliminated. Afon knew the Russian oligarch had grown tired of his frequent questions regarding some of Avilov’s decisions. Their professional relationship had become increasingly strained, especially after the alien, Merrick, was captured.
While a warped sense of loyalty made it almost impossible for Afon to kill the man who had taken him off the streets, he had not been above letting Avilov suffer the consequences of his own poor decisions—and leaving him to face them alone.
The alien called Merrick had been working with Tansy Bell. Bell was an undercover agent for CPAT, a secretive government program whose acronym stood for the Collaborative Partnership Against Terrorism. She was determined to take Avilov down, but after her confrontation with Avilov heated up, she was trapped in Russia. That was when her friend, Cosmos Raines, brought his seemingly unlimited resources into the fight.
Turning to the next page, Afon paused on an image of Adam Raines—Cosmos Raines’ father. Adam Raines’ death was one of the few he regretted. He’d been wrong when he thought Avilov would refrain from hurting the elder Mr. and Mrs. Raines—at least until he had their son in his possession. Avilov did hurt them, and Afon had known at that moment that his own time on Earth was very limited.
What Afon knew, and Avilov refused to accept, was that Avilov was in over his head. His former boss was poised to take everyone close to him down with him—and he had in the end. Everyone that is except for Afon.
The next few pages of the report were devoted to the half-brothers Weston Wright and Karl Markham. Their deaths had proven that other aliens were on the planet, though the autopsy of Wright’s body showed that he hadn’t been killed by the alien Markham was after. Instead, he had been murdered by his own half-brother at Addie Banks’ family vacation home in Oregon.
At first, he had been perplexed by Markham’s reasoning, but Afon later discovered that Karl Markham wanted to hunt an alien for the challenge of it.
As if advanced alien races are exactly the same as big game in Africa, Afon sardonically thought.
By all accounts, Wright was the more cautious of the two. The brothers had probably disagreed about Markham’s foolhardy quest and Wright had ended up dead. In any case, Markham got his wish when he kidnapped Cosmos Raines’ Head of Security, Avery Lennox, to use as bait.
Afon shook his head. Lennox was a deadly opponent and Markham should have known that—if he had done his research. Toying with her was like toying with a hungry lion.
Markham also should have known about the alien’s capabilities from all the testing that had been done on Merrick. In the end, it was his own extreme hubris that had doomed him. Markham’s desire to pit his skills against Lennox and a man with alien abilities had been the equivalent of suicide.
He turned to the next page. The detailed autopsy and gruesome photos showed that Markham had suffered a particularly grisly death. Nearly a hundred men and one of the most advanced security systems on the planet hadn’t been able to protect Markham from his prey.
Afon turned to the last page, and his lips turned upward in a crooked smile, though he felt more exasperated than amused. All of his carefully laid plans—plans that had begun nearly a decade ago—were in danger of unraveling because of the young woman staring defiantly up at him in the photo. Now, thanks to DiMaggio, CRI—or at least one member of it—had found the end of the thread and was following it to the source.
“You, little one, are a problem. A problem that will have to be dealt with sooner rather than later, I’m afraid,” he murmured as he considered his options.
Derik paced back and forth in the downstairs study. A quick glance at the clock told him it was nearly one in the morning. Amelia had disappeared earlier into another room and he’d been left feeling frustrated and confused.
One part of him argued that he should ignore Amelia’s protests, kidnap her, and return to Baade as soon as possible. The other part of him realized that doing so could cause enormous complications—especially if she protested to the Council. His orders were to bring her back, but his heart told him that if he tried to press the issue, Amelia would resent his barbaric behavior.
He needed advice. He needed someone who could really understand Amelia. RITA might be a good choice, but she was a computer. His mother might be a better choice, but she didn’t really understand human nature. He needed someone who understood human females.
He stopped and grinned—his brothers! They each had a human mate. Surely they would know the right thing for him to say and do! They had each faced different challenges with their bond mates and they were older than he was. Their experiences would give him an advantage.
He reached for the portable Gateway device in his pocket, then paused and pursed his lips in indecision. He didn’t want to leave Amelia here alone. What he needed was someone who could keep an eye on Amelia while he was gone, but without her realizing it. He grabbed the communicator at his waist, activated the device, and waited for RITA and FRED to respond.
“Is everything alright, Derik?” RITA asked, materializing in front of him.
“Yes, but I need your help,” he said.
“Of course, love. What can we do?” RITA asked, perking up.
“I need to speak with my brothers back on Baade, but I don’t want to leave Amelia alone and unprotected. I should only be gone for, at most, an hour. Can you open a Gateway to their residence on Baade and watch over my mate for me until I return?” he asked.
“Of course, sweetheart. We’ll keep an eye on her and make sure she stays put until you re
turn,” RITA promised.
“Thank you. I shouldn’t be gone long,” he stressed.
“I’ll open the Gateway. Your brothers are still in the palace,” RITA responded.
“Perfect. Set the Gateway to reopen in one hour. That should give me enough time to do what I need to do,” Derik ordered.
“Commencing Gateway,” FRED said. “Return portal will open in exactly one hour.”
A shimmering doorway appeared in front of Derik. He looked over his shoulder at the closed door across the hallway. A dim light shone from under the door. He briefly linked with Amelia. He smiled slightly when he saw that she was completely absorbed in the encryption code she was trying to crack.
“I won’t mess up what we have, Amelia. I swear I won’t,” he vowed before he turned toward the open portal connecting their worlds and stepped through.
Runt blinked and leaned back in her chair. She rubbed her eyes and looked around the room with a confused expression. Something was different—she could feel it. There was a void, as if she had lost something and didn’t realize it yet.
She lifted her hand and rubbed her forehead as the sensation intensified. Turning off her computer, she rose to her feet and stretched. Her hand moved to her stomach when she heard it growl.
“Food. Maybe that’s what the feeling is. I need food,” she concluded.
She picked up the micro-computer and slipped the band over her wrist. She could work on the encrypted file while she ate. As it was, decoding the first document in the stolen file from DiMaggio had taken her longer than she’d expected, which irritated her. Now that she was pretty sure she understood what was used to encrypt the other documents in the file, it wouldn’t take her long to open the rest of them. What was weird was the code was familiar and really similar to her style of code. She shook her head. It was obvious she needed to take a break.
She unlocked the door to the den, opened it, and peered out. A frown creased her brow when she saw that the room across from her was empty. She shrugged her shoulders; maybe Derik had gone upstairs to bed. She tentatively reached out, but didn’t sense him. He may have needed more rest to finish recuperating from his wound.