by S. E. Smith
She wiggled her nose when she recognized a painting called Young Italian Girl Resting on Her Elbow by Paul Cézanne. She had seen copies of it in one of the art history books in the library. She’d loved looking at the details of the paintings. It reminded her of computer coding. Each programmer had their own unique stroke when it came to writing code.
Music, art, and computers had a lot in common. She loved how her mom used to make a game out of guessing the artist when they went to the museums. She did the same when she saw a hacker’s code and analyzed their style. In this painting, the depth and number of layers of paint needed to achieve the color desired by the artist told her that this wasn’t a reproduction.
One of the heavy wooden doors opened, and Marcelo looked grumpy. Obviously, his boss wasn’t opposed to seeing her despite the late—or earliness—of the day. A part of her wished she’d been a fly on the wall when Marcelo had mentioned her mother’s name to Afon.
“He will see you now,” Marcelo coolly stated.
“I figured he would,” she responded.
She took a step forward only to pause when Marcelo held out his arm. She tilted her head to one side and looked at him with a quizzical expression. He gestured impatiently.
“The backpack,” he said.
She clenched her jaw and shot him an annoyed look. Talk about déjà vu! She shrugged off her backpack, and held it out.
“I want it back—with everything in it,” she snapped.
“Now you have me intrigued,” Marcelo replied.
“I paid a lot of money for my headphones, and don’t go fingering my lace undies. I already need to wash them all because of one pervert putting his grubby paws on them a few hours ago,” she growled.
“Duly noted,” Marcelo dryly responded, taking her backpack and handing it to the guard behind her.
Runt stepped around him and into a very elegant—and overwhelmingly masculine—office. The guy’s space really could use a woman’s touch! A little splash of color would go a long way. Her mom had been good at that.
A shaft of unexpected grief hit her at the thought of her mom, and she locked eyes with the man standing near the window. His expression was intense… and in his face, she could clearly see her mother’s features. Afon had the same eyes, nose, chin, and black hair. If there had been any doubt in her mind, it evaporated the moment they locked gazes. Tears suddenly burned her eyes.
“You…,” she started to say, then trailed off, her wide eyes clearly showing her shock and turmoil.
He studied her for several seconds before he signaled Marcelo to shut the door behind her. She shoved her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. He raised an eyebrow and indicated with a casual wave of his hand that she should have a seat.
“To what do I owe this pleasure, Miss…?” he asked.
“Runt… My name—everyone calls me Runt,” she murmured.
“Please, have a seat. Runt—that is an unusual name,” he replied.
She warily followed him when he took a seat in one of the plush cushioned chairs situated before an unlit gas fireplace. She sank down onto the chair across from him. She rubbed her hands on the knees of her jeans in an effort to warm them.
“It works for me,” she said with a shrug.
“How do you know Arianna Dolinski?” he suddenly demanded.
Runt looked at Afon. “What do you know about her?” she countered in a soft voice.
His eyes narrowed. “Surely you did not wake me at two in the morning to ask me about someone you know nothing about,” he dryly commented.
She released an inelegant snort. “You weren’t asleep,” she confidently retorted.
This time he pursed his lips, and she mentally filed away this latest reaction. As short as their chat had been so far, it was giving her some interesting information about Dolinski. If he was as ruthless as Avilov had been, he would have already strung her up and begun the torture.
A visual of what had happened to Cosmos’ dad suddenly formed in her mind. She rubbed her damp palms against her jeans again, stood up, and restlessly paced a few steps before she turned and leaned against the fireplace. Perhaps she should have thought this out for a little bit longer before she came here.
She touched the micro-computer on her wrist and reached out to Derik with her mind, needing the reassurance that she wasn’t completely alone here. Her heart skipped a beat when all she felt was the void she’d felt when he left the safehouse earlier.
Where the hell did he go this time? she wondered.
“You’re the same age as she would be,” she said, thinking out loud.
“What do you know about her?” Afon demanded, standing as well.
Once again, she was struck by his uncanny resemblance to her mother. She didn’t know why she hadn’t seen it before. It was impossible to ignore now.
“Why did you work for Avilov?” she blurted out.
He looked at her thoughtfully before he turned and walked over to a nearby bar. She watched as he silently poured himself a drink. He held up the bottle and looked at her.
She shook her head. “I’m under age. You… you shouldn’t, you know, drink and drive. It’s not safe,” she stammered before she pursed her lips together.
He chuckled softly and replaced the decanter of amber liquor before he picked up the glass of bourbon. She was mesmerized by the way he swirled the liquor, lifted the glass to his lips, and drank half of the contents.
“You baffle me, Runt. A hacker with a conscience… You steal from thieves and give to animals—literally. Did you really donate five million dollars of DiMaggio’s money to animal shelters or did you keep some for yourself?” he inquired.
She looked up at him with a startled expression. “It wasn’t my money. I gave it all away,” she replied. “How did you know about DiMaggio?”
“You are not the only one who does their homework. Does Raines know that I am still alive?” he asked.
“I don’t know. He probably does by now. I didn’t tell him. Things are kinda complicated at the moment,” she honestly answered.
He studied her with a frown. “Complicated…. Yes, I would agree with that. You asked me why I worked for Avilov. No one has ever asked me that before,” he mused.
He returned to his seat, sat back, crossed his legs, and silently studied her again. She ruefully wondered if she had inherited this particular characteristic from him. Sighing loudly, she returned to her seat as well.
“So, what’s your story?” she asked.
He shot her an amused look. “My story…. You make it sound as if you are here to listen to a bedtime tale.” His smile faded and he became solemn. “My story would give a young woman like you nightmares.”
She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees. “I’m not afraid of nightmares,” she softly said.
Afon contemplatively studied her serious face, then he said, “Life as an orphan is difficult in a country such as this. Life as an orphan in a place like Russia is much, much more dangerous. You learn young how to survive or you don’t live long. I learned—and I excelled. I have done a lot of things in my life that I should regret,” he shared, staring down at his glass.
“But you don’t. Regret what you’ve done, that is?” she asked in a tight voice.
He looked up at her. “Twice—I’ve felt regret only twice in my life,” he stated.
“What happened those two times?”
He gave the barest hint of a smile. “Adam Raines died… and he died terribly. I knew that Avilov would use Raines’ parents against him, but I was not expecting....” He shook his head. “My time with Avilov was already coming to an end, and though there was little I could have done to help, I did what I could to give Cosmos more time to save him. Unfortunately, it was not enough,” Afon murmured.
“Cosmos wants justice,” she warned.
“I’m sure Cosmos Raines is not the only one who wishes that I really had died in Hong Kong,” Afon said with a wry smile.
He draine
d his glass and rose to his feet. She twisted in her chair when he walked by her. He stopped at the bar and poured himself another drink. He looked over his shoulder and lifted an eyebrow.
“Would you care for anything?” he politely inquired.
“Hot chocolate—with whipped cream if you have it? Or is it too late?” she said, biting her lip.
“Hot chocolate… No, I have a full staff on call,” he reassured her.
He walked over to his office door and opened it. She could hear him talking to Marcelo, and she grinned when she heard the security chief’s grumbled response. She quickly concealed her amusement when Afon closed the door and walked back to his seat.
“So… you said two things. What’s the second one?” she asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you never going to tell me what you know about Arianna?” he inquired.
“I will. First, I need to… well, I can hack what’s in your accounts, but I can’t hack what’s in your brain,” she admitted.
“Yes, conversation isn’t often as illuminating as a person’s paper trail. I’ve researched you,” he admitted in turn, his gaze never leaving hers.
“You wouldn’t have found anything except what I wanted you to find. You’re a lot like that, too.” She paused and narrowed her eyes. “What is the second thing? I hope it isn’t killing me,” she lamely joked.
He shook his head. “No, if I do that, killing you would be the third thing,” he said.
She wiggled her nose at him. “Well, I hope things don’t run in threes for you,” she quipped.
He grimaced. “The second thing was losing my sister,” he quietly said.
“Arianna…. What happened?”
“Arianna, my sister, my twin… She was born a few minutes after me. As children, we were very close. Unfortunately, the orphanage did not share that information with the American couple who adopted her,” he calmly stated.
“Did you ever try to find her?” she asked.
He frowned at her. “The orphanage burned down three years after Arianna was adopted. Even if it hadn’t, Russian orphanage record keeping was never very accurate—which leads to my next question. Why are you interested in Arianna?” he demanded.
Runt was deciding how to answer Afon’s question when several things happened. Her wristband vibrated. Distracted, she looked down at it just as Afon released a muffled curse. She looked up, unsure if she had heard what he said correctly above the sudden knocking on his office door.
He had dropped his glass and stood up. She turned toward the door and noticed a familiar shimmering Gateway opening in the middle of the office. She gaped in shock when Derik stepped through, and gasped when she registered that his weapon was aimed at Afon. She instinctively moved in front of her uncle.
“No!” she cried out at the same time as another feminine voice cried out in shock and horror.
When Runt heard the woman’s voice and the clatter of the dishes falling, she turned so swiftly that she lost her balance. As she tipped backwards, she took in every detail of Marcelo and the woman where they stood just inside the door.
The group of men behind Derik surged forward with their weapons drawn. One of the men fired, striking Marcelo in the chest. Afon’s Security Chief fell back against the door, closing it, before he sank to the floor. The woman who had brought in the tray lurched sideways.
Runt felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist and steady her. At the same time, Derik released an animalistic growl that sent a shockwave through her. His face was a mask of rage. His teeth had lengthened and his eyes swirled with the silver flames she had seen earlier.
I really have slipped into a time vortex, she thought numbly.
“Release her,” Derik said, his aim unwavering and his eyes cold.
“No,” Afon stated.
“No,” she repeated.
“No,” the woman’s trembling voice added.
“Did your mate just say no?” Mak asked with a startled expression.
“That is what it sounded like to me,” Borj commented.
“Is that the human we are after or not?” Teriff demanded.
“Oh, that’s Afon Dolinski,” RITA replied, suddenly appearing beside Runt. The AI turned and smiled at her. “Hi, sweetheart,” RITA said.
“It would appear we are at a standoff,” Afon tersely remarked.
“That is where you are wrong, human,” J’kar said, appearing from a shimmering doorway behind him.
Runt opened her mouth to protest but no sound came out when the blonde woman slowly walked toward her with frightened, tear filled eyes. A hiccupping cry escaped Runt when the woman removed her wig to reveal neatly pinned, black hair.
“Amelia… Afon,” the woman said in a voice that shook.
Runt shook her head in denial. She was glad that Afon was holding her otherwise she would be a puddle on the floor. All of the men in the room had frozen in confusion—except Marcelo, who hadn’t moved since he was hit with one of the aliens’ blast of energy and fell to the floor.
“You…. It can’t be…. I saw your body. I went to your funeral…,” Runt mumbled in disbelief, her own eyes glazed with tears.
“I know,” Anne Thomas replied.
Amelia….
Derik’s gentle inquiry drew her attention to him. He still stood poised to fire at Afon. She desperately reached out to him with her mind, needing his calming strength.
“She’s… my mom,” she brokenly stated.
“But I thought…,” Derik said as he looked from Runt to the woman and back. His expression softened when he saw that she was barely holding it together. She felt the warmth of his touch in her mind.
I need you to step away from Dolinski, he tenderly instructed.
You can’t hurt him, she replied.
He will harm you. He is responsible for many atrocities—including the death of Cosmos’ father and Merrick’s capture, Derik said.
He’s my uncle, she quietly explained.
Derik stared at her for a second before he lowered his weapon. Runt turned her attention back to her mother, and decided they all needed to go to a place where they could talk.
She stiffly pulled out of Afon’s arms and turned to look up at him. His gaze remained focused on his twin sister.
“Arianna…,” he murmured.
A watery smile appeared on Arianna’s pale face, she took a step closer, and replied, “Yes.”
Afon tore his gaze from Arianna to look down at Runt. “You knew?” he asked.
“No. At least, not that my mom was alive. I knew that you were my uncle. I didn’t know….” She took in a deep breath, released it, and looked at her mom again. “I didn’t know my mom was here.”
“We need to leave. Reinforcements are on their way,” Borj commented, looking out of the window.
“Oh, dear. I should have disabled the alarm system. I am obviously not as alright as I thought I was,” RITA fretted.
Mak walked over to Marcelo, located the small black box that looked like a primitive comlink on the floor near him, and kicked it across the floor. Runt was just relieved to note that Marcelo was still breathing.
I guess nice aliens set their phasors to stun, she thought.
She jumped when she felt an arm slide around her waist and pull her close. Looking up, she realized Derik had moved without her noticing. Her hands went to his shoulder to balance herself.
“What should we do?” Derik asked his father.
“RITA, let Cosmos and Avery know that we have the situation under control. Borj, open the portal. We take everyone back with us to Baade. We’ll deal with it there,” Teriff ordered.
“Including this one?” Mak asked, nudging Marcelo with his boot.
Teriff nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately, he has seen too much,” he said.
“Amelia…,” Anne Thomas said with alarm when the shimmering portal appeared.
“I won’t let them hurt you,” Runt declared in a low voice. “I promise.”
Chapter E
ighteen
Six hours later, Derik quietly stepped into his living quarters. He rubbed his face and yawned, then blinked in surprise when he saw Amelia sitting on a lounge chair on the balcony. He felt a wrench in his heart when he saw her wipe her cheek.
Are you alright? he murmured.
She turned her head and gazed at him through the glass with eyes that were red and swollen. Her face was pale. The dark shadows under her eyes made her look very young and vulnerable. Regret that he couldn’t protect her coursed through him.
She shook her head. I’m good. You can’t protect me from life, you know. I wouldn’t want you to, even if you could, she quietly informed him.
That doesn’t change the fact that I wish I could, he ruefully told her as he walked through the living area and out onto the balcony. She twisted around until she was sitting on the edge of the lounge chair. He sank down beside her and opened his arms. She tilted her head to the side and studied him for a moment. She gave him a rueful, watery smile and leaned into him.
“I want more,” he playfully teased, lifting her up and placing her on his lap.
“Yeah, well, keep dreaming,” she retorted.
Derik wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face against her neck. He tightened his hold when he felt her tremble. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep, calming breath. The tension inside him slowly began to recede.
“What’s going to happen to us?” she asked in a soft voice.
He lifted his head and rested his chin on the top of her head. “Us…. I like the sound of that,” he said.
She leaned back and scowled at him. “I meant me, my mom, and Afon, not you and me. That’s still not going to happen,” she said.
“I’ll ignore the last part and answer the first,” he said with a sigh. “The Council will make a decision. Have you talked to your mother about what happened and what she wishes to do?”
She lowered her head and nodded. “We talked—a little,” she mumbled.
She placed her trembling hands on his arms, her pain and confusion very clearly coming through their mental link. She was exhausted, but her mind refused to shut down.