by Kyle, Celia
When he entered the clinic, Chashan turned to him with such an expression of pity that Whelon scowled. He clenched his fists so tightly that his shoulders flexed into massive knots of muscle. A hiss escaped his mouth and a tendril of dragon’s smoke drifted from his nose.
“Hello, old friend,” Chashan spoke softly. “It is okay.”
“It is not okay.” Whelon pushed through gritted teeth and Chashan nodded.
“Come through to the lounge area. The females are all here with Dawn.”
“She left the ship?”
“Yes, a bit earlier. She wished to check on Melissa.”
Whelon experienced a wave of remorse. He had seen Melissa on the news and she was in a fragile state. His desire to help others pushed aside his inner conflict and he hurried to the lounge to see the bearing female.
When he entered, Lily waved him over enthusiastically. She sat at a table with three laptops spread in front of her while Penelope chatted from a table-top speaker.
“I want you to pull up all the information on how far we have come in wiping out Pol Mutation,” Lily requested. “Get out all those videos from when Grace was speaking about the improvements with her mother and Delaney putting the full force of her company onto the problem.”
“Roger, Roger.” Penelope replied.
“They are putting together a positive press release,” Hannah informed him as she walked past with a cup of soothing tea. “We want to get the good news out there for the people.”
“That sounds great.” Though in truth, he could not muster a strong feeling over their actions. It seemed the only emotions he could summon were rage and longing. Everything else was simply numbness leading to despair.
“Whelon,” a soft voice called to him from across the room. He glanced over and found Dawn with her hand resting on Melissa’s stomach. Behind her, he found Ellie sleeping soundly on a big, soft bed. The only evidence of her pet Charlie was an impression next to her, which shuffled and hissed when he focused on its presence.
“Mellissa,” he hurried toward her, flashing a reassuring smile at Jarek. He had seen the esteemed warrior in an agitated state in the past, but nothing compared to his current condition. Jarek’s eyes were red-rimmed with his face drawn, and it appeared he hadn’t slept in weeks.
“You should not have been caught up in this,” Whelon informed the couple with true regret.
Melissa shook her head. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” Dawn countered softly. “The dragonlet is in distress.”
Chashan approached from Melissa’s other side. “I was just getting Delaney settled for a scan. How are we, Melissa?”
“Can you all back off?” Melissa growled. Dawn and Jarek didn’t move, but Chashan and Whelon took a few steps back.
“What kind of distress?” Whelon directed his question at Dawn.
“The child is angry,” Dawn whispered. “It wishes to fly and breathe fire. It’s sapping all of her strength.”
Whelon had never been in this situation before, but the fury in his own veins rose to meet Dawn’s words. He knelt and held out his hand.
“May I?” He looked to both Jarek and Melissa for permission. Melissa nodded and Jarek looked away. It was easy to see that the fierce warrior was devastated that he could not help his mate at this time.
As Whelon’s hands skimmed Melissa’s belly, fire rose inside. The rage of his own dragon rose in answer, and it was as if both dragons joined together in a roaring fury.
“Yes,” Dawn whispered, speaking for the dragonlet. “You know me. You know my frustration. I need to be somewhere else, but I can’t be there. I don’t know how to get there.”
Shivers ran up Whelon’s spine as the true strength of Dawn’s talents washed over him. She read the dragonlet, speaking for it. He knew she was gifted but he had never met a heart master who could do such a thing as this.
Whelon sighed and spoke the words he himself needed to hear. “Patience, little one. We all arrive where we are destined to be if we but let time show us the path.” As he stepped back, he sensed only a small flare of anger from the dragonlet, but he knew it wasn’t enough, not yet. “Dawn, join the baby to his mother emotionally, if you can. Show the young one how much Melissa is hurting and try to settle him that way.”
“It’s a good idea, Whelon.” Dawn nodded, her hand still on Melissa’s belly.
“Does anyone mind if I check on my clinic on Farthing Street?” He was worried about the people in that poor neighborhood, thinking about the Preor warriors he had left in charge and wondering if they were up to the tasks. He also knew it was a pale excuse for getting somewhere he may run into Sasha.
“Don’t be long,” Chashan requested of him. “I want you to help with Delaney’s scan results and possibly assist me with Charlie.”
Whelon shuddered. He would do a great deal to get out of that task. He waved to the others and then retraced his path back to the roof of Preor Tower.
Fly, fly, fly…
He reached the top of the building and shifted as he leapt from the roof of the tower. His massive wings braced on the currents and he twisted in the sky as he headed for the outskirts of the city. He was relieved to release his beast, if only for a short flight. He made directly for the clinic, landing on a nearby street. He had to stop and take several deep breaths before he could stride up to the clinic.
I’m not even me anymore, he thought with some fear. I’m merely a shell waiting for Sasha to make me whole.
In truth, he always had been a shell. The difference now was his awareness of his state.
Daylight was just breaking over the land as he reached the clinic entrance. He was impressed by the work the others had done, putting up temporary buildings and setting up a food store where people could eat for free. He was even more impressed to see clothes and other useful items being handed out to the humans.
A few warriors waved to him and he sensed the numbness easing, just a little. This should prove to the humans that they were compassionate and caring, and that they meant humanity no harm.
Further down the street was a news crew and a small crowd of people who pointed and shouted, and he smiled. This was the best possible thing to have happened. Now they had footage of Preor males selflessly helping those in need. It was exactly the image they required.
Whelon went on about his work, checking on old patients and seeing new ones. Even though the fire still burned him from within, he was content for now, for a short time at least. All the good work they did would only help him get Sasha sooner and that was his only goal.
Sasha.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sasha blinked slowly, stretching out her arms to find cool, crisp sheets beneath her palms. She groaned against the inevitability of getting up, wishing she could sleep for a few more hours. She had endured so much over the last week that a rest day was more than overdue.
She sat up, pushed her blankets down and grabbed a robe. She hardly remembered arriving home last night. Her mother had chattered relentlessly in the car, but Sasha had merely kept her mouth shut and remained silent. She wanted to approach her mother calmly, her words chosen with great care.
She had been living beneath her mother’s rule for so long that she knew it was going to be difficult to keep her anger in check. Now that she looked back with the gift of hindsight, she was angry about a great many things. She could see her mother’s manipulation in every single childhood memory.
Even Jenna’s explanation of her father’s abandonment—that he walked out and left them without a backward glance when Sasha was two—seemed suspect now. Maybe her mother had taken her away from him. Maybe he had fought for her and wanted her to have a life of her own.
Sasha realized she was romanticizing and brought herself down quickly. She wanted to sort through her emotions so she could have it out with her mother rationally. It was time to prove she really was a capable adult and fully able to manage her own affairs.
She hurried t
o the shower, continuously rehearsing what she was going to say in her mind. She practiced her lines, making them as convincing as possible.
Maybe if I can convince myself, I can convince her, she thought. Even though Sasha worked herself up to the big conversation with admirable strength, a part of her whispered it was all a useless endeavor.
Her mother wasn’t going to listen. She would only hear what she wanted and would just find worse ways of working her will on her daughter. Sasha hated her inner voice because… because it sounded far too close to the truth.
Sasha dressed in a smart pantsuit and strode from her bedroom feeling like a soldier destined for the front lines. She would never be more ready to face off against her mother than she was at that moment. She had her own game plan as well. She already made a list of every single celebrity, media crew, and reporter she knew.
She hadn’t realized how much influence she had in the industry until she began putting together a list of names. She was going to pull as many of them behind her as she could and do a piece on the Preor aliens by herself. She knew some people believed she was biased. Too many extremists were listening to her mother and using her “evidence” as an excuse to attack the Preor warriors.
And they want to talk to me about bias, she thought with frustration.
If she called in every single media person, she knew some would be able to give balanced information. She might even have the courage to talk to the protestors and discover why they hated the Preor so strongly.
Yes. Draw out both sides and try for a real discussion.
She was full of hope as she entered the living room of the apartment. She didn’t hear her mother moving around, and she wasn’t in the kitchen fixing breakfast. Even though it was odd for her mother not to be present, Sasha passed off the thought.
Maybe she had to run to the store for more fat-free, low calorie tasteless wheat sticks to punish me with, she thought furiously. She knew her mother wasn’t going to “let” her eat any decent food for a while. Sasha thought about going out for a huge lunch after they had their discussion. She wasn’t a slave to her mother’s whims anymore and she refused to act like one.
Her mouth watered as she imagined a massive bacon and egg roll dripping with spicy sauce. Or maybe a croissant soaked in butter. There were so many delicious foods she had never tried because her mother said they were bad for her figure.
It was just to control me, she thought sadly. It might have had something to do with nutrition, but for the most part, her mother just liked to deny her things to give herself a power boost.
Sasha switched on the TV and her heart leapt. It was a live feed from Whelon’s clinic on Farthing Street. Her chest tightened as she saw him in the distance, some way from the camera. She knew he’d come to prove himself and no one could argue that the Preor weren’t doing good in the area.
Then she turned the volume up.
Even though the Preor nearest the camera smiled and answered questions in a friendly way, the reporter stated that the warriors refused to let them into the “Preor camp” they had erected. Sasha sat in shock as she watched the broadcast, listening to the newswoman tell the country that the Preor had set up in the suburb without permission to terrorize humanity.
“As you can see, they have set up a series of impressive structures here. We don’t know what they are doing, but it appears they are performing scientific experiments on humans. Obviously, they’ve chosen the poor and disadvantaged among us on which to work their evil. These people have no choice. See how they lure the humans in with food and toys for the children.” The reporter shook her head and peered down at the ground in sorrow. Sasha had to give it to her, the woman knew how to work her audience.
“The fact that they won’t let us any closer speaks for itself,” the reporter stated firmly. “They are hiding something. They are abusing people. We will have more on this story as it unfolds. I’m Sherry Lang, thanks for watching.”
Sasha sat frozen for a few seconds. Her mother and the big talk she had planned would have to wait—she had to get to Whelon. She had to organize her contacts to stand against these ridiculous accusations.
“Mother!” she yelled out, racing into the kitchen on the off chance she was in there and quiet. That’s when she spied the note taped to the fridge.
Sasha,
Work needs to be done and I couldn’t wait for you. I need to help humanity fight off the invaders. You stay home like a good girl and recover from the shock of the abuse you have suffered. I’ll talk to you soon.
Love, Mommy
Sasha tore the note from the fridge in a rage, crumpled it, and hurled the paper across the room.
“I’m not a fucking doll!” she screamed and ran to the front door. She tried to wrench it open, but it wouldn’t budge. She peered through the peephole and found Dave standing on the other side of the door.
“Sorry, miss. I can’t let you out.”
“You can’t keep me a prisoner. I’m an adult, not a child!”
“Your mother has power of attorney over you, Sasha, and you’re very ill. Please get some rest.”
She backed away from the door slowly, as if it could come to life and destroy her. The words sank into her mind, but she still didn’t quite understand their meaning.
How did she get power of attorney? she wondered, in panic. Mother was always giving her things to sign and half the time she never read them.
“Fuck!” She ran her hands through her hair and went back to the couch to see if more news on the situation on Farthing Street was available.
Every channel was about Whelon and his clinic. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The army had been called and they were packing up the clinic and forcing the Preor back onto the shuttles. Whelon turned and looked right into the camera, their eyes meeting as if he could truly see her. She reached out a hand, struggling to stifle the sobs from escaping her chest.
He just wants to help! she thought. Can’t you see that this is breaking his heart?
Sasha watched the military shove the Preor back to their craft and felt an incredible, deep hopelessness about the situation. The voiceover was bringing an update from Congress. The entire treaty was being called into question. The Preor were now only allowed in Preor Tower and nowhere else. No matter what happened now, they would never be allowed full freedom ever again.
“We can’t have aliens wandering around unpoliced,” a local woman addressed the cameras in disgust. “They can’t set up camps and make themselves at home wherever they please. It’s a breach of our trust. It’s not their planet.”
But it is, thought Sasha. The second they become mated, we are one. This is Whelon’s home because it’s mine.
She watched the Preor climb aboard the shuttle, some of them glaring at the armed soldiers with open hostility. The children screamed as the healers were taken away. Humans that had been recruited for the clinic shouted, trying to stop the soldiers from taking the food and supplies.
None of it did any good. It was obvious to Sasha that humans would do the same as they always did—react, misunderstand… and then destroy.
Chapter Twenty-Four
On his ride down to the surface, Whelon had been numb as if he were wrapped in a thick, gray curtain that cut off his senses. Like he put up a defense against the cruelty of a world that conspired to keep him from his mate.
After being “escorted” from his clinic on Farthing Street, he now blazed with emotion. Light seemed to burn into his pupils, the edges of everything around him sharp enough to cut. Every sound burrowed into his skull and his skin burned as if the air was full of needles.
As the short flight shuttle docked back on the ship, he covered his ears with his hands, but it did nothing to block out the noise. Small bumps and clangs he had never noticed before now felt like they drilled through his eardrums.
Every Preor on the shuttle curled away from him, no one wanting to touch him by accident. His dark wings were clenched closely to his back, f
lexing slowly, and distress was written in every line of his body. He had been so close to attacking the humans that an all-out war had been but only a breath away.
The children! The recent images haunted him and he knew they always would. The soldiers had taken down the tents and dismantled the buildings, going so far as to throw away the food and tear the toys from children’s hands.
The screams and tears of the children rode his soul while the desperate faces of the men who were forced to watch sliced his heart. The women of the neighborhood had been in various states of shock and fear, but one in particular stood out in his mind. She had been some distance away from the main action, clutching her crying baby. He had just had a warm bottle, pretty toy and soft blanket snatched from him by the soldiers and screamed in rage.
The look on the mother’s face would be in his dreams—nightmares—for the rest of his life. She didn’t scream or cry. She simply stood there, holding her distraught child while watching the soldiers take everything—an absolute picture of defeat. She had no hope left in her heart, and Whelon felt bad that he had given them hope in the first place.
When the ship docked, he went straight to the main rec room near the med bay.
Grace and Carla stood to embrace him, but he waved them away.
“You have the news on?” He looked for usual screens and found them dark.
“We thought maybe you wouldn’t want to see,” Carla murmured.
“Switch it on!” He knew his voice was too sharp, but he couldn’t temper his tone.
Grace pushed a button on the remote and pictures flashed across the screen. Every channel showed the military taking down his clinic. The crying, angry humans were being painted as victims, led astray by Preor lies. When one cameraman zoomed in on soldiers breaking a pile of colorful toys in front of sobbing children, it was reported that the toys were dangerous or contaminated and had to be destroyed for the children’s own good.
