by Shyla Colt
"Always."
He reached down between them to free himself from his britches.
He pressed into her entrance with his thick head and pushed inside her, inch by decadent inch. Her muscles protested before they gave and he sank inside, filling her, chasing away the emptiness that lived inside her when he was gone. He pulled out and pumped inside her. It was a slow, steady pace as they rediscovered each other. Six months without his touch, or hearing his voice. Tears ran down her face as the pressure built and she teetered on the edge. She tilted her head up to accept, and they made love with their mouths. All too soon it came to an end when he stroked the spot inside her and she exploded, dragging him with her. Warmth flooded her channel as he released with a low groan. "When I'm inside you like this, I'm home." His words were muffled, his face buried in her neck.
****
Present
Rivka woke with tears on her face. The sweet scene that’d transpired between the two lovers in her dream made her heart ache. Why am I dreaming about this? There was a familiarity to the scene, though she couldn’t place why. Their faces were obscured by the darkness. Had she seen them on a t.v. show or a movie? No. Perhaps it had been more than a picture painted by her overactive subconscious. Now that The Wanting had begun, perhaps it was a soul memory. Was Bastien someone she'd known before? The words of Estria haunted her once more. They had a dark past between them. She would meditate on it.
Chapter Ten
Zasha chewed over the new information she’d received from Phelan while she prepared to go in to work. After a year and a half dating and mating she was still amazed at the things the Shar were able to do. Contacting the souls of their slain parents had come at a great personal price, but it also gave them a starting point. They had a motive. It'd make it easier to find a pattern and figure out their next move. She smoothed back the stray hairs of her braid and began to secure the rope-like length into a bun. She'd been toying with the ideal of bringing in the top geneticist, Dr. Guerin, for a while, but needed the justification to do it. Now she had good reason. After she delivered the brief she'd send a request in to her commanding officers. Then hopefully she could get started on the process of contacting the woman and getting her brought on to their team.
Zasha studied herself in the mirror as she worked on pinning her bun. A slight swell had begun to transform her once toned abdomen. It wouldn't be much longer in regular clothes. Her breast had grown a cup size. They were often tender, along with her sore nipples. These were the not-so-wonderful things people didn’t tell you about pregnancy. She'd read What to Expect when Expecting, but they didn't have a section on interspecies pregnancy. Done with her hair she grabbed the gun holster off the dresser, slipped it on, and added her detective badge. She'd been moved to desk duty after she'd announced her pregnancy to the chief. It was the stipulation he and Phelan insisted on, not that she'd put her child in danger.
She rested her hand on the swell. He or she was the reason she'd been burning the midnight oil and pushing everyone so hard. They would never really be safe until Tavel was caught. The mad man still haunted her dreams, and at times her waking hours. All it took was the sight of a close shaven blond head to set her on edge when she was caught off guard. It was no way to live. The thought that Tavel might have captured others who weren't lucky enough to get away pissed her off and made her sick to her stomach.
"I swear we'll bring him to justice, little one. You will never know what it feels like to constantly look over your shoulder and live in fear," she whispered.
"We'll get him, Zash." Her husband came up behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her body. Used to his ability to walk soundlessly she allowed her head to rest on his chest for a moment, basking in his comforting smell and support.
"I think this new information can help turn the tables. I'm just not sure how to present it. Telling them you can do this with your powers would be—jarring, to say the very least."
"Tell them we found a new recollection of our parents’ death. It's not a lie, and they won't ask how I'm sure. It's too personal and not relevant as long as you have proof, which you do. I've typed up the statement, signed, dated, and given it the royal stamp of approval. You don't get much more official than that."
"I know, I just worry. I'm walking a very fine line being with you and working for the P.I.U. I know I'm not the only one who thinks so either. I can't afford to slip up."
"You won't," Phelan whispered. He gave her a gentle squeeze and she leaned her head back, going up on her tiptoes to peck his lips. She went to step away, and he deepened the exchange, slipped his tongue inside her mouth and kissed her thoroughly.
"Okay, enough of that, or I won't get out of here on time.”
Phelan's amber eyes sparkled with mischief. "I'm sure we have time for a quickie."
"The look on your face has anything but quick written all over it," Zasha said. He chuckled.
"You're right."
"I called my team in on the weekend. If I'm late they'll never let me live it down. Besides I put in an order for doughnuts and coffee I need to pick up on my way. My way of boosting morale and saying I love you, don't kill me for cutting into your off time."
Zasha forced herself to step out of his arms to grab the black bag she carried to work off the balsa wood dresser. "It shouldn’t be a late night. We're going to work this new information into what we've already collected, come up with a new game plan, and get back home to enjoy our families.”
"Be safe and call me if you need me."
"Always." Zasha paused when she reached the doorway. "By the way, I know you have men following me. I don't like it, but I understand the need for it."
"How did you know that? I told them to be cautious," he said.
"I wouldn't be very good at my job if I didn’t know when I was being followed. Besides." She tapped her head. "Heightened senses and all that jazz, thanks to you and baby wonder in my belly." She gave a wink. "Love you, Phe. I'll see you later on."
"Love you too."
His words still sent a rush of joy to her system. It was a struggle at times to blend their two cultures. In the end she was happier than she'd ever imagined she could be. She had a career she loved, one that filled her with purpose and allowed her to help others and make a difference. It was her dream growing up. Then a man from the stars had shown her she could also be a wife, and now she was soon to be a mother. She was blessed to have it all, and once Tavel was off the streets she could actually enjoy it.
Twenty minutes later she was placing copies of the new evidence in a stack on the desk in the front of the room. The traveling cardboard dispenser full of coffee and the set of twenty-four assorted doughnuts were set on a table, ready to go. Please let this be the break we're looking for. Zasha picked up one of the packets and walked over to one of the numerous rolling white boards, hoping something would spark. Her eyes scanned the information. Come on, where’s the pattern?
"Hey Johnson, why the big pow wow?"
Zasha turned and smiled at Richards.
"Break in the case, just came through last night, we have a motive." She picked up a packet and handed it to him.
"Other than crazy, you mean?" he asked.
"Yep, which is a relief because crazy has no rhyme or reason. This guy actually does."
"Jesus Christ, genetic experiments? This is straight out of a comic book," Richards muttered. His gaze scanned the paper. His blue eyes grew a bit wider with every line he read.
"So he's what—trying to create the perfect donor?"
"That's what we think. It's the only thing that fits."
"He must've run out of this—compound that was allowing him to function normally by now?"
"I don't think so. Not yet, but close maybe. So far his actions haven't been well thought out and calculated. But he's taking risks. That either means it was a part of a plan that's finally coming to fruition, or his time is running out. When I saw him he looked normal, maybe even younger than his true
age, which means it was still working. Of course, that was a few months ago."
"We need to figure out if there's a way to screen for people he's come into contact with and run the experiments on."
"Well that's actually something I've given a lot of thought. I think I know someone who could do it," Zasha said. "Here, let me hook my laptop up to the projector."
Richards took a seat, and Zasha made her way to the back where she busied herself with attaching wires and booting up her laptop while the others arrived.
"Hey, guys. Grab a packet, help yourself to breakfast, and take a seat. I want you to go ahead and look over the information so we're all up to snuff before I tell you why I called you in here and the new direction I want to take this investigation in," Zasha said. Once the five members were gathered she began. "This just came to me last night. Phelan grew curious about his parents and started to think maybe there was another motive for the murders besides revenge. A reason connected to why he chose Earth and stayed underground—until now."
"So he's trying to stop this rapid aging process?" Camden asked.
"We think so," Zasha said. "If we can figure out what he did to himself and how he plans on fixing it, I think we have a real shot at not only finding him, but also stopping him."
"How do you plan on doing that?" Griffin asked.
"With the help of her, Dr. Ivy Guerin, she’s the top geneticist in her field, one of the pioneers of alien D.N.A. She’s accepted among their circles, as well as our own. I believe between her and the Shar we can bridge the gap in our research, and get this son of a bitch before he does any more damage. Maybe even help the people he's already altered. Those poor souls should weigh heavily on my mind." No one spoke for a moment. By right she should've been taken off the case, as it was a major conflict of interests. They all knew it. Yet, who else could act as liaison between the royals and the P.I.U? Removing her right now would be suicide to the case, and it was too important to let that happen.
"What do you need us to do?" Miller asked. Zasha grinned. I can always count on my team to have my back.
Chapter Eleven
Bastien gave up on sleep around nine. He couldn’t get the thought of Rivka and all the pain she must've experienced because of his decision to undergo The Purge. Back then he'd been young and self-centered. He'd never once thought about the person out there waiting for him. How do you fix that? He was already emotional dysfunctional. He'd sacrificed his chances at a normal life for the greater good and received this? Why? What could he have done to make his energy so bad? His people were huge believers in energy; if you sent good out it came back, same with bad. So what the hell happened to him?
The world around him seemed duller, his mood lagged, and guilt dogged his every step. How could one person bring him to his knees? He dressed in a pair of black jeans, a Metallica t-shirt, black Converse, and headed down the hall to talk to Mars. He was the only one who knew he'd entered The Wanting. Phelan had enough to deal with. He wouldn’t ruin this moment. He knocked on the door. Strange, coming to baby brother like this. The door swung open to reveal Mars still clad in a pair of flannel pajamas and a gray t-shirt.
"Oh, you do not look well at all. This isn't the look I was expecting you to be wearing this morning," Mars said. He stepped back and waved him in.
"Yeah, me either," Bastien said. He sank down into the brown suede couch on the other side of the room where Fringe was playing on the big screen television. Mars sat across from him in a Lazy Boy made of the same material.
"Tell Dr. Mars what happened," he said.
"Ass," he said with a snort.
Mars laughed.
"Hey, made you smile, didn't it? What's going on, bro? You look like someone ran over your vernth." He shook his head at the mention of the Shar version of a dog.
"She hates my guts."
"How is that possible? You've probably never spent more than fifteen minutes alone with her ever."
"She's furious about The Purge, and you know what? She has a right to be. Last night I experienced a sliver of what she's felt over the years—it was horrible, Marsden, a yawning pit of loneliness and sadness with no foreseeable end. I did that to her! How do you make up for something like that?" Mars shook his head.
"You had your eyes on a different kind of prize back then, but I know you. You get the job done, and this will be no different. You're good at strategy. This time you have to use a different set of tools."
"Mars, how the hell did you get so smart?"
"I don't know about smart, in tune with my emotions, yes. There was too much testosterone, and be a man mentality up on Tagget. Once you remove all that, you're just left with who you truly are at your core. I used to be upset with Mom and Dad for sending me here, but after talking to them I understand it. They knew our planet had started to fail and we were going to have to relocate to Earth. Sending me here was their way of easing the path for you guys. Whether you realize it or not, I'm always the go to for Earth-related things, and though I can't be sure, I think I was more suited for life here. Maybe because I was so young."
He looked at his brother with new eyes. He'd always thought of him as a slacker. But now he saw he’d simply chosen a different path, one they'd all been dependent upon. He was an integral part of adapting to life here.
"You just schooled me."
Mars burst into laughter. "Did you just use that phrase? Holy shit, we've been spending too much time together."
"Wasn't that the proper way to use it?" Bastien asked.
"Technically, yes, but it doesn’t sound right coming from you." Mars wiped the tears away from his eyes as his laughter ebbed.
"Look, we have to come up with a plan of attack and get started. You need a crash course on women, a subject that happens to be my specialty." Mars flashed a huge grin, and Bastien shook his head. If nothing else he was in a much better mood.
"I don't need a lesson on all women, just one."
"True, but we can teach you the basics. ‘Cause right now you're a blank canvas, and clueless is not a good look on you."
"Don’t pull any punches, do you?"
"You can take it."
"You're supposed to be making me feel better," he said.
"Aren't you?"
"Yes, you smug bastard."
"You know we don't coddle in this family. Save that for Rivka." Bastien tossed a pillow, chuckling when it nailed his unsuspecting brother in the face. "You come to me for help, and this is the thanks I get?"
"It made me feel better." Bastien shrugged.
"Good, that was the point. Now we need to do some recon."
"On women?" he asked, lost.
"No, on Rivka. We know what she does, but we don't know anything about the woman—at least I don't. Do you?"
"No," Bastien said. Why hadn't he thought of this?
"Let's get our laptops and head downstairs to get some food. I'm starving, and this might take a while. I doubt she does interviews for People magazine, so we'll really have to search."
"We should call Kade," Bastien said.
"He might be working in the lab. He's been overseeing the search for the chemical compound,” Mars said.
"I'll hunt him down, and we'll meet you in the kitchen."
"Good deal." Mars walked him to the door, and Bastien paused. "Thanks, Mars."
"I'm happy to be able to help you for once. Seems like we always ask you. I know it's part of your job description, but it's got to be exhausting nonetheless. Truth be told, I'm glad to see you with your mate. She'll make you happy, and you deserve that after all the years of selfless service and sacrifice. I know your shoulders are broad, but they could use a break."
His throat closed, and he proceeded down the hallway, unable to speak around the lump that had formed. In the beginning he hadn't been given a choice about what he wanted to do with his life. When he looked back he knew he wouldn’t have had it any other way. A few minutes later he pulled out his phone and called Kade.
"Hey
Bast, what's up?"
"Ran into a problem I could really use your help with. What are you up to right now?"
"In the labs."
"Can you get away?"
"Yeah, you want to meet me down here? I'm waiting on some test results coming up in a few minutes."
"Yeah, I'm on my way now."
"See you when you get here."
They disconnected, and Bastien made his way to the bottom floor of the house. He nodded to the workers he passed. His skin crawled at the sight of the army of men and women in lab coats. He found Kade clad in a white lab coat and a pair of pale blue-green scrubs. His head was down as he studied the print outs in his hand in the middle of the research office. Bastien knocked.
"Hey, come on in," Kade said.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Bastien asked, perching on the edge of the desk in front of him.
"No, something's still missing. I've been thinking of going undercover and taking a trip to Branzor."
"Why?" Bastien asked.
"I think that's where Tavel’s source is coming from. I need fresh specimens and the chance to talk to locals. He may be using something not commonly known. It's my best guess as to why we haven't been able to recreate the things we've found. I'll need to put together a team for the expedition, and speed up all the paper work and red tape they'll want to toss our way."
"Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this?" Bastien asked.
"I've been trying to narrow down the variables to make sure what I've been thinking is feasible. We've tried everything I can think of as well as the police forensics. It's time to get together a team and do what needs to be done. With the wedding a few weeks away I want to keep this between us."
"Looks like we all have secrets," Bastien mumbled. Kade raised an eyebrow.
"Does that cryptic statement have anything to do with why you’re here?”
"Yes. I didn't want to say anything, but I found my mate.”
"What!" Kade shut the door with his powers. "Who? When?"
"Rivka."
Kade's jaw dropped. "Whoa."
