by R S Penney
She noticed Jack for the first time.
He was down on one knee next to the small wooden table, turned so that she saw him in profile. And his skin was glowing! Streams of white light pulsed from his body, washing over his face and hands.
“What the hell?” Lauren said, backing up against the wall. “Jack? Jack, can you hear me?”
He didn't respond.
The detective sat up with a pained expression on his face. He pressed a palm to his forehead and let out a groan. “Where are we?” he muttered. “Hutchinson, where…did Hunter do this to me?”
“The kid knocked you out,” Hutchinson breathed.
“He did not!”
Fists balled at her sides, Lauren strode forward. She flashed clenched teeth and seethed at the cop. “You knocked him down!” she said with a nod. “You knocked him down, then pulled a gun on my brother!”
“You can't believe-”
Harry Carlson silenced him with a glare. “Dear God…” the man said, trying to stand. “David, why the hell would you hit me with your baton?”
Jack was still on his knees, but the glow had intensified, transforming him into a figure of pure white radiance. Only then did she notice that his clothes were not glowing, just his exposed skin. What was happening to her brother? Could she stop it? She didn't dare try, not if doing so might kill him.
Carlson seemed to notice him for the first time as well. He shuffled backward on the floor, raising a hand to shield his eyes. Perhaps this would buy them time. If Lauren could get the gun away from them…
When Hutchinson looked up, he let out a shriek. The shock of it must have been too much because he quickly flopped down on his side. Lauren couldn't blame him. Each and every instinct in her body told her that this thing that had taken possession of her brother was nothing short of death incarnate. She remembered hearing Jack say that a life form of some kind had been inside the little container.
Hold on, Jack…she pleaded. Hold on.
The mist stretched on in all directions. A kind of uniform featureless gray that was strangely lacking in moisture, it flowed around his body in thin puffs and tendrils. Where was this place? How had he come here?
Jack moved like a ghost.
The mist clung to him, flowing over his blue jeans and jacket, streaming from his fingers in thin lines. It wasn't cold or wet. In fact, he couldn't feel it on his skin. Finally, it began to thin.
Chewing on his lip, Jack turned his head and peered into the distance. “Well, this is just swell!” he said, eyebrows rising. “I was really looking for some trippy, psychedelic crap to fill that empty four PM slot on my schedule.”
Footsteps in the distance.
He winced and shook his head. “Okay, Jack, keep it together,” he said. “This can't be any stranger than the guy with cyborg hands.”
A silhouette in the distance became distinct to his eyes. A tiny woman who moved through the mist with a determined stride. Could that be Anna? He would know for sure in a moment.
The strange fog parted before her, and he found himself looking at a woman who stood just a few inches taller than five feet, a woman with a face that felt oddly familiar to him. It took him a moment to place it, but he had seen this woman's face before. Well, he'd seen her faces.
She was a composite of Buffy Summers and Vin Venture with traces of his mother and sister mixed in for good measure. There was even a bit of his kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Simms. She seemed to be a mix of every strong woman he'd known, both real and fictional. “Greetings.”
“Hello,” Jack said.
The woman smiled, a sudden burst of crimson in her cheeks. She bowed her head to him. “I believe I owe you my life,” she began. “I am very grateful for everything you did to free me from my captors.”
His mouth agape, Jack stared at her with wide eyes. “You're the Nassai!” he said, giving his head a shake. “That's right! Hutchinson took a shot at me, and then I put my hand over the containment unit…”
“That vile man is currently lying on your sister's living room floor,” she informed him. “For the moment, he is incapacitated, but that will quickly change. We must work together if we are to survive.”
“Where is this place?”
She grinned, turning her face up to the open sky. “This?” she said, her eyebrows climbing. “This is your mind, Jack. I could have produced another setting, but this had a certain appeal.”
“I'm unconscious?”
“Not precisely.” The puzzled expression that passed over her face left Jack feeling off-balance. How could an alien – a cloud of gas, no less – learn to emote with the skill of a master thespian? “Our two minds have blended, and you are currently processing an overwhelming amount of data. It feels to you as though several minutes have gone by, but in the physical world, less than five seconds have passed since your hand came into contact with the containment unit.”
“So we have some time?”
“We have time enough for a brief explanation,” she replied. “But as I said, the man who assaulted you will not remain incapacitated forever. We must act quickly if you wish to save your sister.”
Jack closed his eyes, a single tear rolling over his cheek. “I put Lauren in danger,” he whispered, shaking his head. “Don't get me wrong; I don't regret helping you, but I should have known better than to come here.”
The woman stepped forward.
Craning her neck, she stared up at him with an earnest expression on that angelic face. “There is still time to help her,” she said with a nod. “I believe you to be resourceful enough to do it on your own, but if you want my assistance, there is something else that I must ask of you.”
“What's that?”
She took his hands in a tender grip, her skin warm to the touch. How was this even possible? Was she stimulating the parts of his brain that processed his sense of touch? “If you wish for my help,” she said softly, “you must bond with me.”
The offer hit him like a punch to the stomach. In a way, he should have expected as much – what else would a Nassai want under these circumstances? But Anna had made it clear that they would not bond an unworthy host even if failing to do so meant death. If she meant what she said…
Of all things, she chuckled, backing away from him with one hand covering her mouth. “Yes, Jack, you are worthy,” she assured him. “You have repeatedly put yourself in danger to help a total stranger. You are courageous, intelligent and capable. But most important of all, you care.”
Jack grinned, a sudden warmth in his cheeks. He looked away so that she wouldn't see. “Well, thank you,” he mumbled. “But if you knew me half as well as you think you do, you'd know I tend to screw up everything I touch.”
“How do you think I know any of this?”
“I'm sorry?”
She studied him with pursed lips, blinking slowly as if uncertain of what she saw. “Do you believe I learned all this while inside my containment unit?” she asked. “Maybe I overheard Denario Tarse while he spoke?”
“I-”
“I've been scanning your mind, Jack,” she explained. “You will forgive me, but I need to determine the suitability of a potential host. I know everything about you from your first memory to the very moment that Hutchinson pointed that gun at you. I know you to your bones, Jack, and I'm telling you that you would make an excellent Keeper. Together, we can make this world a better place, but if you do not wish the bond, I will let myself pass.”
Jack spun around.
He paced through the mist with arms folded, thin tendrils of vapour streaming over his body. “If I say no, you'll die,” he said, freezing in place. “You have to know I'd never allow that.”
Shutting his eyes tight, Jack tilted his head back. He took a deep breath through his nose. “You say we could make this world better?” he asked. “Well, if you think so, then I'm on board.”
“Don't be too quick to accept,” she cautioned. “There are several things you must know before accepting a bond
. My cells will join with yours, and as such, you will carry me with you wherever you go. Once we are fully bonded, you will be unable to survive without me. This decision, once made, is permanent.
“You will be several times stronger, more agile and quick to heal, but your lifespan will be shortened by a decade at least. My presence will be necessary to facilitate cellular division in your body, and there will come a point when I am no longer able to do this for you. When that happens, I will be returned to my people, and you will be allowed to pass peacefully. There is one other price.
“You will be unable to conceive children with any partner. Meiosis becomes quite impossible once you have bonded a Nassai. If you are willing to accept these drawbacks, then I will gladly accept you as a host.”
Pinching his chin, Jack squinted down at the ground. The mist flowed over him in thick waves. “You want to know if I can accept that?” he muttered. “You're giving me a chance to make a difference. I'd say it's a fair trade.”
He spun around to find her standing in the fog with hands shoved into her pockets, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I like you,” Jack went on. “So if I have to live out my days with you riding shotgun, I think I'd be okay with that.”
“Then you accept?”
“Lay on, MacDuff.”
She grinned as she strode toward him, spreading her arms wide for a great big hug. Quick as a blink, she was slipping her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. “I am honoured to join with you, Jack Hunter.”
Her body began to glow with a light so fierce it should have burned him to cinders, and yet he felt only a gentle, comforting warmth. Radiance spread over him, sank into his skin and surged through every cell in his body. “I will bond with you now.”
“Okay,” Jack said, “but you better still respect me in the morning.”
Chapter 17
Carlson and Hutchinson were both crawling across the hardwood floor, but the only thing Lauren could see was her brother who knelt before the little table, glowing like an angel. Light streamed off of him, rippling over his body.
Jack stood up, tilting his head back as the light faded away to nothing. He took a deep breath. “Well, then,” he said, spinning around to face the two cops. “Where were we before I blacked out?”
He stood with his eyes closed, perfectly serene except for the sweat that matted his dark hair to his forehead. “Oh, that's right,” he said, nodding once. “You were threatening to kill me, Hutchinson.”
When he opened his eyes, they glowed with pure white radiance, as though each contained a tiny sun. “You threatened my family,” he growled, striding forward. “You threatened my friend. For this, you will know divine wrath.”
Hutchinson scrambled backward across the floor. He stared up at Jack, his mouth moving without a sound. “Please, God, have mercy!” He crossed his forearms in front of his face as if to shield himself. “I'm sorry!”
“Leave this place,” Jack said. “And if I ever see you again, you will burn.”
That was all it took; Hutchinson turned around, crawling on hands and knees to the kitchen before getting to his feet. Lauren heard the stomp of footsteps and the creak of the back door. He's gone…
With his mouth agape, Harry Carlson stared up at Jack. He blinked several times in confusion. “What are you?” he asked, shaking his head. “What in God's name…how did I get stuck in a horror movie?”
The light in Jack's eyes died, returning them to their normal shade of blue. Lauren didn't know whether to cheer or start crying. Had something taken control of her brother? Did it mean to kill them?
He dropped to his knees.
Jack buried his face in his hands, a painful groan escaping him. “All right, that was painful.” He looked up, blinking tears out of his eyes. “Good to see you're up, Carlson. I was worried he might have done permanent damage.”
“Jack…”
Biting his lower lip, Jack heaved out a sigh. He closed his eyes and nodded once. “It's really me, Lauren,” he said, guessing her question before she could even ask. “Just a new and improved version.”
Crossing her arms with a shudder, Lauren frowned down at the floor. “I liked the old version just fine,” she said, her eyebrows rising. “Jack, what the hell is happening? First a detective shows up, then his partner tries to kill you and then you put on a light show.”
“I'll explain everything,” Jack said. “But now, we need to find Anna.”
Patient has taken a gunshot wound to the chest.
The morning sun was high in a blue sky full of puffy white clouds, shining down upon a wooden fence behind a small garden with daisies. Anna liked daisies. Each one reminded her of a sunrise.
She knelt in the grass before the garden, dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white shirt that she wore belted with an empire waist. Her red-gold hair was tied back into a short ponytail with thin strands framing her face.
Anna bit her lip, nodding to herself. “Well, it's not my best work,” she said, wiping sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. “But it'll have to do. Sorry, Mom, but I just don't have your green thumb.”
She stood.
Pressing her lips into a tight frown, Anna closed her eyes. She felt the wind caress her face, blowing those strands of hair back. “You should have expected as much,” she muttered. “Alia was always the gardener. I was the painter.”
What had possessed her to come out here and dig around in the dirt was something she couldn't remember at the moment. Perhaps it was just a desire to enjoy a warm spring morning. She so rarely had the opportunity to just bask in the sunshine because…because…she couldn't recall.
Pulse is erratic, respiration shallow.
Turning away from the little garden, she faced a small dome-shaped house where sunlight shimmered on photo-voltaic paint that coated the entire building. An arch-shaped overhang shaded the back door.
Anna marched through the grass with arms folded, frowning down at her feet. “It's almost noon anyway,” she said with a shrug. “Dad will be home soon, and I have to make sure lunch is ready.”
She approached the back door.
Once inside, she found herself in a large living room where gray carpets stretched from wall to wall and a crescent-shaped couch encircled a coffee table. Her wooden easel was set up in the corner with a painting of the garden outside on the canvas. She had used acrylic paint, blending colours together where soil met grass and flowers poked up before the wooden fence.
It needed a few touch-ups, but then art was never truly finished, was it? Alia kept telling her to leave it alone, but Anna was a perfectionist in this regard. It was a trait that vexed her more than anyone else.
Blood pressure eighty over forty-five.
Where was that voice coming from?
“Digging in the garden, huh?” When she turned, she found her sister coming out of a door that led to the office. “I guess I should feel sorry for the plants. Maybe I'll give them a little extra water today.”
Alia was a short and slender woman in black pants and a gray t-shirt with a long V-neck. Her face was thinner than Anna's, her cheekbones more pronounced and she kept her reddish blonde hair at shoulder length.
Anna frowned, then lowered her eyes to the floor. She tried to ignore the warmth in her cheeks. “I figured I'd give it a try,” she muttered. “It wouldn't kill you to expand your horizons, Alia.”
“My horizons are fine right where they are, thank you.” The other woman shook her head as she paced through the living room with arms folded. “And the flowers might prefer it if you left yours alone as well.”
Anna stuck her tongue out.
She turned her face away from her sister. Of course, that didn't stop her blush from deepening. “Maybe I just don't like the idea of being assigned to a role,” she said. “Maybe I want to try new things.”
Gardening would never be one of her favourite hobbies – having to check on those flowers every day would drive her crazy – but she was cu
rious. She wanted to see what her mother and sister found so fascinating.
Their father would be home soon. On the far side of the living room, Anna found a small kitchen where wooden cupboards lined two walls and an island supported a few cloth place mats.
“Do me a favour,” she called out to her sister. “Grab last night's leftovers from the fridge. We can heat up the chicken for a-”
Start an O-Negative drip.
“We can heat up the chicken for what?” Alia stood in front of the couch with her arms crossed, scowling down at her feet. “I know you love to daydream, kid, but could you at least finish your sentences?”
Something about this wasn't right. There was somewhere she was supposed to be, something she was supposed to do. Why did her chest hurt? No, that was silly. She was supposed to make lunch for her father.
Her father.
The front door opened, the sound of footsteps in the front hall. No, it was too early. She needed more time to complete her task! “Anyone home?” her father called out in a jovial voice. “Leana? Alia?”
“Not yet,” Anna muttered to herself. “I need more time! I wasn't finished yet!”
Her parents emerged from the front hall, side by side and hand in hand. Beran Lenai was a compact man in black pants and a blue suit jacket. His square jaw was fringed with a coppery beard, and his dark red hair fell to the nape of his neck.
Next to him, Sierin Elna was only slightly shorter. A slim woman in a white dress, she wore her honey-coloured hair done up in a braid. “Someone's been busy,” she said, glancing toward Anna. “Out in the backyard?”
“You're holding hands.”
Sierin looked genuinely surprised, her eyebrows slowly rising as she studied her daughter. “Of course we're holding hands,” she said at last. “We often hold hands. That's what you do when you're in love.”
