by S. E. Smith
“How can I help you, Secretary Albertson?” she answered.
“I’ve been calling. Where have you been?” Richmond demanded.
Avery’s eyes narrowed at his sharp tone. “I don’t work for you, sir. Therefore, my other commitments took priority,” she replied in a cool tone.
“…Yes… of course. Are you in Houston?” he asked.
“Not at the moment. I will be returning to Houston this evening,” she replied, placing her bag on the desk before she rubbed at the ache forming between her eyes.
“I would like to meet with you. Is it possible for you to come to my home in Virginia?” he inquired.
Avery closed her eyes irritably. This was one of the reasons her days of working for the government were long past.
“I can meet you in Washington,” she countered.
He was silent for a moment before she heard him exhale. The spoiled politician would just have to deal with the inconvenience. It wasn’t her job to make him happy. In fact, at the moment, she could happily tell him to go fuck off. She wanted to get back to her apartment, take a hot shower, and get her emotions back under control before she dealt with anyone. She impatiently waited for his answer.
“In Washington then. When will you be here?” he demanded in a gruff tone.
“I’ll take a flight this afternoon. I can meet you later this evening or sometime tomorrow,” she dispassionately offered.
“Tonight, ten o’clock at the Jefferson Memorial,” he said.
“I’ll see you at ten o’clock,” she agreed, “Can I inquire about the purpose of this meeting?”
“It’s a matter of national security. I’ll brief you when we meet this evening. Don’t be late,” he replied in a terse tone before he disconnected the call.
Avery stared at her cell phone. Her gut twisted. The hand that had been rubbing the throbbing spot between her eyes moved to her stomach. She didn’t know if her pain was a manifestation of her feelings for Core or nerves about the upcoming meeting, but this was certainly not the time to get soft.
Avery looked down at her palm. The intricate mark pulsed with the same beat as her heart. Her fingers curled into a tight fist. The longing to go to him was threatening to break through the walls she had built.
She looked up at the ceiling. This was what she imagined withdrawal from drugs would feel like. She needed to see him, touch him, hear his voice.
Her gaze turned to the silver cylinder. She had to get out of here. Her original plan had been to take a shower, catch up on her emails, and check in with Rose and Maria before calling for the corporate jet to return her to Houston. Now she would only be doing the last part.
Pushing the number for the corporate pilot that was on standby for her, she picked up her bag and began walking toward the exit of the lab. Each step away from the Gateway device and her only hope of seeing Core again was agonizing. The deep voice on the other end of the phone pulled her back to the present.
“I’ll be there in an hour. File a flight plan to Washington, DC. I’ll also need a car and driver,” she stated.
“Yes, Ms. Lennox. The jet will be fueled and ready to go when you arrive,” Rex cheerfully assured her.
“Thank you,” she replied, ending the call.
“You know, Cosmos might get a little upset if you accidentally forget to return a Gateway device, but I’ll never tell him,” RITA replied, suddenly appearing to walk beside her.
“I want to be alone, RITA,” Avery gritted through clenched teeth.
“Avery….” RITA started to say.
Avery turned on the AI system. Her eyes flashed with pain, grief, and fury. She would not have her life controlled by anyone—not even an advanced computer system.
“Terminate this conversation immediately, RITA, or I will personally speak with Cosmos about your interference,” Avery warned.
“As you wish, Avery,” RITA quietly replied.
RITA faded, and for a moment Avery looked through the clear doors to the main part of the building, then she struck her fist against the clear material. The sound of the case of her cell phone striking the material reminded her that she was still holding it.
Blinded by tears, she pocketed her phone and activated the door leading out to the hallway. Her speed picked up and soon she was running down the stairs instead of taking the elevator to the parking garage under the warehouse.
She strode across the dimly lit parking lot to the Tesla. The doors unlocked as she approached. She opened the passenger door and tossed her bag inside, then slammed the door shut and walked around the car. Grief hit her hard as she pulled the driver’s door open. Lowering her head, she did something she hadn’t done since she was a child—she let the tears fall without trying to stop them.
Karl impatiently tapped his fingers on the steering wheel of the car that he’d been living in the last three days. He ran his hand along his jaw. The rough stubble irritated him almost as much as the grainy feel of his eyes from lack of sleep.
He knew Avery Lennox had to be still in the building. A soft curse escaped him when he felt his full bladder protest. He was about to push open his door when a movement from across the street caught his attention. A sleek red Tesla pulled out of the parking area under the warehouse. In the driver’s seat was Avery Lennox. She paused and looked both ways before she pulled out onto the street.
His bladder would have to wait. Pressing the ignition button, he pulled out behind the Tesla. He’d spent a lot of time planning what he would do next. He’d also read over the report on Avery Lennox.
There hadn’t been much about her. Lennox was clearly well versed in keeping her life private. The limited information about her hadn’t been worth the high cost—but, he knew that she had a vulnerability.
Avery Lennox cared about people. That information hadn’t come from the little thief he’d paid a fortune to, it had come from his own sleuthing. He had combined the report he’d received with other facts from his contacts in the government, as well as public news articles, and he’d discovered that Avery Lennox’s life was dedicated to helping and protecting people.
The death of Adam Raines had hit her hard. His new dossier contained a picture of her, composed and protective as she stood behind Cosmos and Ava Raines at the cemetery. He’d studied that image of her and noted her terse remark to the reporter who had covered the funeral. ‘Those responsible for Adam Raines’ death will be brought to justice—one way or another.’
Avery Lennox didn’t get mad, she got what she wanted. His informant in the government had said the same thing. Richmond Albertson, the Secretary of State, had been very candid with him, though he hadn’t exactly been a fount of specific information as he warned Karl that Avery was more dangerous than she appeared to be. All Albertson knew was that Lennox was smart, seemed to know things she shouldn’t, and that she worked for Cosmos Raines—who also wasn’t all he appeared to be. Karl didn’t need Albertson to tell him that, and it was obvious Albertson knew nothing about what Raines had been up to. If Raines was palling around with aliens, what else was he capable of? Avery Lennox would know the answer to that question, and now that she was back, it was time to schedule a meeting before she disappeared again.
He looked down at his phone when it vibrated. Seeing the caller’s name, he reached out and picked up the phone. Pressing the answer icon, he waited without speaking.
“She’s meeting me at the Jefferson Memorial tonight at ten o’clock,” the voice on the other end stated.
“Meet her alone. Leave your security personnel behind,” he responded. There was silence on the other end. A smile curved his lips when the silence grew longer. He knew what Albertson was thinking. “You are still useful to me, Richmond.”
“I’ll meet her alone,” Richmond hesitantly agreed, then he took a breath as if to say something, but apparently lost his nerve.
“What is it?” Karl finally demanded, allowing a touch of his irritation to seep into his voice.
“She’ll know I
set her up,” Richmond replied in a slightly desperate tone.
His eyes narrowed on the car in front of him. “There is no need to worry about Avery Lennox, Mr. Secretary. I’ll take care of everything,” he replied before ending the call.
His gaze narrowed on the red Tesla pulling farther ahead of him. He knew where she was going so he didn’t need to follow her now. Pressing the call button on his phone, he quickly made arrangements for his own flight to Washington, DC.
17
The sound of a door slamming against the wall ricocheted through the long corridor outside the Council chambers. The fury on Core’s face caused several warriors standing outside the room to move out of his way very quickly. They warily watched him stalk past them. His white-knuckled grip on the sword at his side gave them ample reason to worry.
“Core…” Merrick called out behind him.
He ignored his cousin. Pain, desperation and rage swept through him. He was very close to losing what little control he still had after the hour-long argument with the Council. He heard a pair of booted feet following him.
He turned and pushed open the doors leading out to the central gardens. Stepping outside, he crossed the veranda and descended the steps. He needed a moment alone.
“Core!”
This time it was Teriff’s voice that called out to him. He slowed his footsteps and came to a halt. He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension as he waited for Merrick and Teriff to catch up with him.
Turning, he scowled at his cousin when Merrick took his left side while Teriff took his right. Merrick looked down at Core’s fingers with a pointed glance. He grimaced and loosened his grip on the hilt of his sword. His rage was not directed at them, but at the other men who were currently debating his and Avery’s future. He flexed his fingers and forced himself to relax.
“How much longer must they contemplate whether it is a good idea to continue using the Gateway device? It’s been almost two weeks,” Core growled under his breath.
“I know,” Merrick replied with a sympathetic look.
“If the Council tries to deny the use of the Gateway, there will be a planet-wide revolt and they know that,” Teriff said. “Too many warriors—especially from the different clans—now know there is a world where there are many potential bond mates. You know as well as we do that the clans will not allow this opportunity to be denied without a fight. You have Merrick’s and my vote.”
Core lowered his head and took in a deep, calming breath. The unease inside him was growing. He knew a portion of it had to do with his separation from Avery, but there was something else as well.
“They know she is my bond mate. They know what will happen if they continue to keep us apart,” he said. He lifted his head and looked at Teriff. “She must know by now how powerful our connection is—and how difficult it will be for us to be separated.”
“The Council promised to vote this evening,” Teriff replied. “If they refuse, I will make the decision. I prefer not to, because I can’t kill the opposing members of the council and they will make sure there are consequences for overriding them. There are some days that I miss the old ways when we just battled it out until the last warrior was standing,” Teriff stated with a sardonic grin.
Core nodded, feeling hope for the first time in more than two weeks of meetings with the Council. He turned his head and nodded to Merrick when he felt his cousin squeeze his arm in support.
“You’ll bring her back here,” Merrick said with a confident nod, “or I’ll help Teriff battle the others.”
Core dryly chuckled. “I would help you,” he replied.
* * *
*.*.*
* * *
Remote island off of the South Atlantic Ocean:
* * *
Avery stared out of the window of her prison cell. The miniature fortress sat on the edge of a cliff. She could see a line of jagged rocks rising from the churning ocean below. The artificially heated room was evidence that outside temperatures were frigid. There was no escaping—at least not from this room. The walls were thick stone, and the windows had reinforced polycarbonate on the inside of the double pane. Even if she could break through the glass, she would face certain death by either falling to the rocks below or plummeting into the freezing, turbulent waters.
It’d been almost ten full days since she’d woken here. Over the course of the last seven evenings, all she’d learned was that she was being held on a remote island somewhere in the Southern Hemisphere.
Avery turned and looked at the door to the elegant accommodations. The interior door was a grate of thick iron bars. The outer door was beautifully carved wood. No one would know from the outside corridor that this room was a prison cell.
Avery smoothed her beautiful red evening gown. Markham was a misogynist with delusions of grandeur, and he expected her to dress in the designer gowns for their formal evening meals.
Once every evening she was escorted out of the cell so that she could join her captor for dinner. She had learned the first night that her attendance was not optional. When she had tried to resist, she was chained—and beaten.
She had to give Markham credit. He was good at torture. He’d kept the bruising to a minimum while making sure that she felt what he’d done every time she moved. After the third day, she realized that resisting didn’t serve her best interests. There’d be no way to escape if she was physically incapable of moving.
Her lips tightened when she heard the key in the door. She would entertain the bastard—right up until she slid a knife between his ribs. Avery smiled slightly at her bloodthirsty thoughts. She was sure Markham wouldn’t find them nearly as funny as she did.
The bloodstains will go well with this gown’s color, she thought with morbid amusement.
Her smile faded when her gaze locked on the pleased look on Markham’s face. The bastard was definitely up to something.
“Time for dinner,” he stated, unlocking her cell door.
She walked with her head held high. No matter what happened, she would never give this asshole the satisfaction of feeling completely in control. She started to step through the doorway when she felt his hand on her arm. Her body stiffened at his touch and she turned her head to glare at him.
“You look very lovely tonight, Ms. Lennox,” he murmured.
Her lips pursed together. Her suspicions bloomed faster than the finale at a Fourth of July firework show. There was something different about him tonight—he almost exuded a sense of anticipation.
“I thought tonight we would dine in my personal study,” he commented.
Avery fell in step beside him as he guided her down the corridor. Today, six men kept pace with them. She paused when they proceeded past the grand staircase that led down to the lower level, and she frowned when she saw another six men carrying large containers into the foyer. One man stepped forward and opened one of the long black crates. She immediately recognized the wide assortment of munitions inside. The man looked up at her. His eyes flashed to Markham before he returned his attention to the crate and closed the lid.
“This way,” Markham ordered.
Avery started walking again when he firmly tugged on her arm. They strolled down the corridor to the very end where a pair of oversized double doors stood open. Through the doorway, Avery could see a large, heavily carved desk made of dark wood—perhaps mahogany. Above it was a painting of a woman who appeared to be in her early sixties. The woman would have been timeless if not for her clothing and her gun. On either side of her were the sprawled bodies of a male lion and a lioness.
Avery stepped inside and took a moment to scan the room. In front of the massive stone fireplace and its cheery fire was a small dining table set for two. The room took up the entire west side of the upper floor of the fortress. On each side of the fireplace stood a stag, the pair forever frozen in mid flight.
The room was filled with trophies of big and small game alike. Distaste filled her when she saw the number of endangere
d animals among the mounts. Her eyes widened when she saw a perfect replica of the woman, the lion, and the lioness in one large clear display case.
She walked over to the case to examine it. The three were posed as if they were waiting for the artist to finish his painting. Her eyes moved from the display case to the painting and back again. With a horrified fascination, she realized that the body of the woman in the case was as real as the two lions she had killed. A shudder ran through her.
“She was a fascinating woman,” Markham remarked.
Avery schooled her features to hide her growing unease, and looked up at Markham when he came to stand beside her. He held out a glass of red wine. Her gaze moved to the glass and she reluctantly took the goblet from his hand, then turned back to the gruesome display.
“Who was she?” she inquired.
“Priscilla Housing—my mother. Weston’s too, of course,” he replied.
She watched as Markham raised his glass in a toast to the dead woman before he took a sip. He turned to look down at Avery, his lips curved in a smile that did not reach his dark eyes.
“She was a true sadistic bitch,” he added.
When he began walking along the line of cases that filled more than half the room, Avery followed him, all of her instincts on Code Red alert.
“Why…? Why keep her like this?” she asked.
Markham looked at her and shrugged. “She was the very essence of Diana, Goddess of the Hunt. She was the predator who never missed her target. When her reign ended, it seemed only fitting that she live on like the prey she immortalized,” he explained.
…Wow, Avery thought. This man redefined ‘major mommy issues’.
