by Elise Jae
“Of course. I would have introduced you to Rose, but the kids are going down….”
“We understand.”
It’s a short walk back to the front door, and D pauses at it, just long enough to tell Kylan it was nice to meet him and share a glance with me.
He’s giving me time. I’m not sure I need it.
“Thank you for seeing us.”
“Of all the people on this world or any other, you are the one person I would never refuse to see.” He looks over my head. “I’m glad you finally decided to rebond.”
I follow his gaze, to where Drift stands at the car, moving without seeming to think about it.
“You could do a lot worse.”
“My chosen profession made that abundantly clear.”
“Edan would have been proud of you, Kimba. And he would have wanted you to love and be loved, even though it couldn’t be him anymore.”
His smile shifts to curiosity.
“Why did you come? It was clear there was a reason... but you got your answer before you asked the question."
"Someone asked me to kill him." I could have lied, but he’d been honest with me. “We haven’t found anyone with a motive to kill him, so we were exploring the possibility of people who might want me to go down for the crime.”
“I guess if you didn’t know why Jax killed Edan, I’m a logical enough choice for that.” The scowl twisting on his face wasn’t meant for me. “Goodbye, Kimba. And good luck. Though, I don’t think you’ll need it.”
D hasn’t gotten in the car yet.
Leaning against the back-quarter panel, he watches me. He knows what I’m feeling.
“Do you want to drive? Or should I?”
We’re not going to a hotel. My anxiety has me wide awake, and I know he won’t be able to sleep until we’re home.
TWELVE
DRIFT
Another day of dead ends.
The guy who tried to contract her is still a mystery, and I’m starting to feel like he might be a ghost. Kimba has been subdued since we left Kylan’s house.
She hasn’t told me yet, but I know why.
Distracted, she went downstairs an hour ago, but she isn’t asleep.
I can feel her thinking.
I didn’t realize how different that would be from dreams.
Wrapping up my tasks and checking the perimeter lines, turn off the lights. Still standing in the middle of the room, I breathe in long pulls of the still air.
She’s waiting. And I want to go to her. But still I hesitate.
I had plans for tonight. But they were plans for a Kimba who still worked at Margot’s. Who lived on her own in a high-rise apartment in the middle of town.
A Kimba who hadn’t already given me so many gifts…. She’s mine.
I shut down the console and make my way down the long stair
She’s standing at the window, her robe loose around her shoulders.
The moonlight paints her a beautiful shade of blue.
Sliding my hand beneath the soft fabric to cup her breast, I move my other to her waist and walk her back in and out of dance. “It’s our anniversary.”
Her face blanks for a moment and then it clears. “Has it really been a year since you first came to me at Margot’s?”
Murmuring a yes, I dip down to nuzzle her neck. She smells… like she’s mine.
I didn’t realize I’d want her this badly.
Not because I thought the feelings would wane. “I didn’t think I could possibly love you more than I already had.”
She leans back into me, arching to press her breasts higher, into my palm.
“Have you been thinking about me, standing here, all alone?”
She’s naked under the robe, and I tug at the sash, letting it fall free, exposing her fully to the moonlight.
“I’m always thinking about you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you in a year… I doubt I’ll stop in another fifty.”
I drag my hand up her leg. Over the curve of her hip and across her belly
There’s no change yet. “We’re going to have to get creative once you really start to show.”
She hums as I move my fingers up to hold her throat, and the vibration tingles against my palm.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
I’ve braced her in such a way that…
“For instance… I won’t be able to do this.”
Hooking my other arm around her waist and lift her off the ground, and onto my cock.
“D!” Her palms brace against the window, legs wrap around my waist.
“Too much?” I know the answer, but I have to hear her say it.
“No.” The word is a breath, and her fingers press harder against the pane as she moves on me. “I’m never going to get enough.”
THIRTEEN
DRIFT
The next morning dawned bright. A stark contrast to our leads. The fact I could not find the man who threatened Kimba rankled. The search, however, pulled more of her history than I expected.
“You said Edan was the one pushing for the Agency. If you—t he woman that the people in charge of this whole thing have had the most interaction with—were to have murdered a second sian man…. this time without the rage from the bond breaking.”
“They might stop anymore placements. At least for a little while.”
It’s unlikely. Another dead lead.
I spend most of the morning staring at screen after screen, trying not to let frustration fill me. It’ll filter through that bond, and neither of us needs that right now.
But I have nothing. We still need to figure out both the who, and the why…. And how they plan to do it, now that their first attempt failed.
It’s been a day or two since I’ve paid attention to anything that’s gone on outside these walls, or the problem that feels like it’s trapped us within them. The news is a constant drone, but it might give me time to clear out my head and rattle free anything that might have gotten caught back there.
The automated reports scroll across the screen weather predictions for the next three days. Their reporting is a little different than the ones coming from the device in the far corner of the war room, but there’s nothing on our readouts that will affect anyone but those of us up here.
Storms rolling in on the lower plains might give more water than anyone actually needs….
Switching to local news, the feed pulls up an image of Margot’s, lights ablaze, nothing out of the ordinary.
It’s an update. The man who caused the outage has been forced to pay damages and attend mandatory therapy.
It’s the next story that makes my blood run cold.
I stare at the face, barely hearing the words, until Kimba shakes my arm. I didn’t even realize she was holding it.
Her face is pale, and she’s blinking up at me, waiting for an explanation. One I don’t know how to give.
KIMBA
He’s stopped.
Frozen.
Gaze locked on the wall screen.
When the dread that’s on his face flushed through our bond, I moved without thinking. And now, when I turn to look at what’s caught his attention, I’m glad I understand their language.
It’s why I know that the man on the screen is dead, and that the fact he was murdered isn’t the only reason he’s being featured.
Tam isn’t a name I recognize, but it’s clear Drift does.
“Did you know him?”
He pulls in a long breath, shakes his head, and some of the warmth returns between us.
“They were an acquaintance. Someone who….”
Jaw tightening, he moves to the desk and taps in a handful of commands. The screen on the wall shifts to the net and three news articles pop up. Two more faces.
Three total deaths.
“This has always been about me and the monsters. Someone wants to drop that bomb, and there are only two of us left standing in their way.”
I’m not sure where I mi
ssed the mention of a bomb, but I’m completely lost, and he’s not going to be in any place to rationally explain.
I let him head for the other side of the room. He’s already called Richter.
And when he leaves, I pull up the answer to the question I didn’t know I’d need to ask. A plan that’s too horrific to imagine its fulfillment.
A small group has been pushing for all-out carpet bombing of the caldera, and a council of five has been the only thing standing in their way.
It wasn't about my past at all. I was just a bit of luck, an easy way to get to him.
Shoving the obituaries to the side, I search for the fifth name.
“Ganfrey is still alive.”
I shout the information over my shoulder as I pull up his address.
He’s here, in town.
“I’m going to go warn him.”
“We are going to go.” I stomp my feet into my boots as I glare at him. “Don’t even think about trying to leave me behind.”
“Of course not. Put this on.” He holds out a long-sleeved shirt, made of the same fabric as the suits they wear when they go out hunting monsters.
As far as I know, it’s the equivalent of a bullet proof vest.
I pull it on, yank my normal shirt back over top, and he hands me a gun on the way out the door.
FOURTEEN
DRIFT
Ganfrey lives in a small, historic community.
There are no gates, no security. Just decades old architecture, and neighbors who actually talk to each other.
It’s the middle of the week, and he might not be home, but I don’t have another address.
His door is frosted glass, and when I ring the bell, there’s movement beyond the milky pane. Thank the saints.
He looks like he just got home from work. Sleeves rolled up, normal jacket gone. It makes him look a lot younger than I know he is.
“Drift?” His face is covered in amused astonishment, until his gaze shifts behind me, then it contorts in confusion.
“And Kimba.”
She might still be getting used to being famous, but I don’t feel the same confusion she does.
Ganfrey recovers quickly, shaking the confusion away and sweeps his hand toward the living room I can see from where we stand. “Come in.”
His house is all windows at the back. A heavily treed backyard with a long pool are on full display, but that means we are too.
“To what do I owe this visit?” He asks moving to stand behind his counter—close to the knives.
“Have you seen the news? Tam and the others are all dead.”
“What?”
“And someone tried to contract Kimba to kill me.”
Ganfrey looks at Kimba, bewilderment on his face. “You?”
“She’s the only one I’ve let get close to me in the last six years. I could have worked… had circumstances been different.”
“I see….”
“They’re no doubt gunning for you too.”
“Unless,” Kimba says, studying him from the other side of the room. “You’re the one who put out the hit.”
Ganfrey looked like she’d hit him, and with a handful of cat shit.
“What century do you think this is?”
“I’ve lived here long enough to know you guys don’t deserve to play at being as high and mighty as you do.”
While he didn’t look happy about it, Ganfrey didn’t argue any further. “How is it possible no one’s made the connection?”
I stalk around the room, checking the too-many windows. “It’s not like many people know the link between the five of us.”
“Speaking of connections how are you two….” Ganfrey’s voice trails off, and I follow his narrowed gaze out the window. “That gate wasn’t open when I got home.”
I scan the yard, looking for anything that shouldn’t be, but is. The sun is at a sharp angle casting dappled shade along the lawn and creating pockets of darkness among the trees.
The figure is all but a shadow among against the far wall, half hidden by the trees.
But their movement is too sian to be mistaken.
“What’s on that side of your house?”
“The garage.”
“Access from the back yard?”
“Of course.”
“And from the inside?”
“The door behind the red palm.”
I spare a glance for Kimba. She’s got the gun drawn. It’s at her side, and I doubt that Ganfrey has noticed it.
“Turn off the lights.”
Ganfrey shoots a confused glance at me, but he doesn’t hesitate. And neither do I.
The door behind the palm is a normal, interior door. Pausing beside it, I hear the scratching of lock picks. They haven’t gotten inside yet.
It takes two seconds to slip through into a corner of the garage. To wait and watch.
Light spills in, only for a second, and whoever the person is, they crawl in. I don’t get a good look at them until the door snaps shut again and they stand. Darkness has always felt like safety to those intent on criminal behavior
Too bad for him, I can see perfectly.
He’s unfamiliar to me, but that doesn’t mean anything. The ugly brick of a device in his hand, however, is something every boy old enough to watch an action flick has seen.
I let him get on his back, let him half shimmy under the car, then I grab him.
One hand on his neck. One on the wrist holding the bomb.
The man makes a sharp noise, but he doesn’t speak. His eyes are so wide, I can only imagine what he thinks of me. A looming figure in the dark of the garage.
I’ll let him keep thinking I am whatever creature he’s come up with that has kept him silent.
I twist the brick out of his hand and drag him to his feet, hauling him back through the door into Ganfrey’s house.
Kimba immediately lowers the gun she’d had raised and steps out from in front of Ganfrey.
“Do you know him?” She asks, not bothering to look at the man who would have tried to kill him.
“No… wait, yes.” Ganfrey leans forward on his counter, studying the man. “You’re the one who came to my office three weeks ago, demanding we stop one of our contracts. Is that really worth murdering me?”
“I’m guessing the person who hired him wanted to use that as a way to hide the real reason you’d be dead.”
Swallowing, the man looked between the three of us. “They were going to kill me.”
“Chances are they were going to kill you either way.” Kimba says from the other side of the room.
I drop the brick on the counter. “He was planting a bomb under your car. “
“Would it arm when he hit fifty?” Kimba asks, her snort of a laugh had us all looking at her. But she waved us away. “Never mind.”
“I don’t know how it was supposed to work or what it was supposed to do. I was just told to put it on the car.”
“By who?”
I see the movement, too late. Hear the shot a second before it knocks us both off the ground.
FIFTEEN
KIMBA
As soon as the window shatters, I hit the ground. The second D’s back touches the tile, I scramble across the floor to him.
The harsh “what the fuck” from behind the counter tells me Ganfrey was smart enough to take cover too. A quick glance shows me I was right. He’s pressed up against the cabinetry, looking up, even though he can’t see over.
D is hurt, but not badly. It’s the man laying over top of him that’s the problem.
The guy is dead.
The bullet might have sliced through D’s shoulder, but it went clean through the middle of his chest. He’s a limp weight on top of D, watching me with a death stare.
“How bad is it?”
“Hurts like fuck, but it’s not serious… I’m going to need your help to get this guy off me though.”
I move to help him, and freeze.
“Such a pity it didn�
�t kill you both.”
The man from Margot’s parking lot is standing over us.
“Back away from him, dear.”
I stand, but I don’t move back, I raise my gun, level it on him.
He only rolls his eyes. “You didn’t kill that man on Earth, you couldn’t kill him. And we both know you wouldn’t have actually hurt Jax if he hadn’t put you into that blood fury, so don’t pretend like you’re going to shoot me now.”
“Now I see why we couldn’t find you.”
I don’t look at D as he speaks. I can’t afford to take my eyes away.
“Kimba, this is Roiban. He’s not only the biggest opposition to the council. He’s also the one who made the facial recognition software we use.”
“It ignores me,” he says with a too-smug grin. “To be completely honest, we never expected her to kill you. We expected her to try… but, well, look at you. We thought you’d protect yourself and snap her pretty little neck.” He shrugged. “Either way, we would have gotten what we wanted.”
“Me. Out of the way.”
“Precisely. You claim to protect us from the monsters. But you’re not doing anything other than building a fence. If we want to protect ourselves, we have to get rid of them.” He shrugs. “And Ganfrey, you are still with us, aren’t you? You’re just as bad.”
The sound that comes from behind the counter isn’t one I expected. It’s sharp, and it’s angry.
“This will work out just as well. Another instance of the jealous man, killing your bondmate and you retaliating. Two birds… I believe is the human expression.”
“It won’t work.” I swallow, trying to ignore the frustration filtering through from Drift.
“Won’t it?” Roiban’s smile is sickeningly sweet. “I guess Ganfrey here didn’t tell you he’s a frequent patron at Margot’s, or that he only goes to watch you dance. You’re very popular, dear. His bank records paint an interesting picture.”
Chuckling, he steps to the side, “Looks like you’re going to be unlucky in love yet again.”
He starts toward the kitchen.
“You can’t win here.”
“You underestimate my will.”
The safety release issues a loud snap. “Final warning. One more step and I’ll shoot.”
