Steel gray eyes bored through her, surrounded by thick dark lashes. The man’s hair was raven-black, skin tanned to a deep bronze, jaw strong, features flawless. She had memorized his face weeks ago.
His eyes widened as he recognized her, too.
“Miranda?” he said.
“Hi, Darren. I’d offer to take your order, but I’m a little hung up right now.”
She laughed, but her eyes had filled with tears again. He didn’t laugh at her joke this time. She wished he would at least smile. Seeing his dimples always made her feel better. She wanted—needed—something that at least gave her the illusion of normalcy.
“You’re going to be okay,” he said.
She already knew that. Still, his seriousness brought home what she had risked. It made everything feel more real. She’d liked it better when her perception had that lingering sense of dreaming.
“Can you assess yourself?” he asked. “Do you know if you hit your head?”
“I didn’t. I mean, my head hurts, but I think it’s from the adrenaline.”
He didn’t look at all relieved. His eyes flicked to the ground, then back to hers.
“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” he said. “We can’t wait for the EMTs to arrive to check you out. We need to get you out of the car. Now.”
Her visions tended to jump around, leaving large swaths of time unseen. The universe didn’t seem to want to spoil all of her surprises. Miranda took in the grim expression on Darren’s face and figured this wasn’t a good one. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and finally registered what was making him look so worried.
Gasoline was spreading onto the street from underneath the roof of the car. Her heart started to pound again.
She had seen herself on the other side of this. Walking stiffly among the tables and booths at the diner, holding a carafe of coffee. She was not going to burn to death.
Please, don’t let me burn to death…
“Stay calm,” he said. “I’m right here with you. I won’t leave.”
She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath, then let it out. She believed him. It made her less afraid, but also brought home the sharp sting of her loneliness. She was usually better at keeping it at bay. It had been a long time since someone had helped her through the aftermath of a vision. A long time since she hadn’t felt completely alone.
She opened her eyes as he stood. He tried the door handle a few times, but the metal frame was mangled. The world seemed to spin as fumes burned her lungs.
She wondered briefly why Darren didn’t just rip the door off her car, then remembered he couldn’t do that yet. No, that was wrong—people couldn’t do things like that at all. Reality was warping—memory, dream, and vision bleeding together.
She heard fabric rustling, then Darren squatted next to her again. He’d taken off his jacket and wadded it into a ball that he placed under her head. Brown leather straps hugged his broad shoulders—and held a handgun in a holster. He’d never mentioned being a cop. All she knew about his job was that he kept late hours.
He squeezed as much of himself into the car as he could fit. He was kneeling in gasoline. “Let go of the steering wheel and put your hands on the roof of the car.”
She knew that she would be okay and was still panicking. He had no assurances of safety and was trying to help her anyway. He was risking himself for her. Her eyes filled with tears again.
“It’s okay.” He placed his hand on hers. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She let him gently peel her fingers off of the wheel, grateful that the adrenaline flooding her system seemed to be blocking her ability to read futures through touch. His hands were warm, his skin smooth. He pressed her hands firmly on the roof of the car, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife.
“I can’t reach the seatbelt release, so I’m going to cut it,” he said. “When I do, you’ll fall.” He put one arm across her chest. “I’ll slow your descent as best I can, but will need your help to make sure you don’t get hurt, okay?”
She nodded, bracing herself. His knife cut the seatbelt easily and gravity took over. She’d barely touched the floor before he was pulling her into his arms. She grabbed his jacket as she passed by, clinging to it. Darren tucked her against his chest and started running away from the car.
“There’s gas over here,” he shouted. “Everyone needs to stay clear.”
A few bystanders glanced over, their jaws dropping open. The soccer-mom was among them, holding her baby while her other kids clung to her legs. Her gaze met Miranda’s briefly, and the mix of horror and gratitude etched into her eyes was one Miranda didn’t think she’d ever forget. Whatever happened next—whatever Miranda had to deal with after this—it had been worth it.
She turned into Darren’s chest, letting it block out the rest of the world for a moment. Either the fumes, his proximity, or the adrenaline firing through her system was messing with her sense of reality again. Nestling in his arms, she felt like she was remembering something that hadn’t happened yet.
A normal person could write it off as déjà vu. For her, it held more significance and a hope she shouldn’t let herself feel.
He was going to hold her in his arms again.
—
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Thank you for reading Progenitor!
Cassandra Chandler
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling author Cassandra Chandler uses her vivid imagination to make the world more interesting, spawning the ideas she turns into her whimsical Science Fiction romcoms and darkly evocative Paranormal and Urban Fantasy Romances. Fast-paced and funny, lighthearted or dark, her stories will introduce you to characters you want to be friends with and worlds where you’d like to build a vacation home.
Look for More Titles by Cassandra Chandler
The Blades of Janus
PACK
PROGENITOR
The Department of Homeworld Security
Gray Card
Resident Alien
Business or Pleasure
Tied up in Customs
Entry Visa
Duration of Stay
Duel Citizenship
Invasive Species
Export Duty
COALITION RECKONING
Import Quarantine
Homeworld for the Holidays
Nothing to Declare
THE DEPARTMENT OF HOMEWORLD SECURITY OMNIBUS 1
THE DEPARTMENT OF HOMEWORLD SECURITY OMNIBUS 2
The Forbidden Knights
FORBIDDEN INSTINCT
The Summer Park Psychics
WANDERING SOUL
WHISPERING HEARTS
LINGERING TOUCH
THE SUMMER PARK PSYCHICS OMNIBUS
Other Works
CRAFTING A WRITER’S LIFE: Building a Foundation
Coming Soon
The Blades of Janus
PERIHELION
Progenitor Page 29