by Fall, Carly
To get the answers he needed, he figured he would offer up the alien’s location, and in return, he hoped whoever resided in the silo would educate him on what he had flowing through his veins.
Or they could just kill him.
He chuckled out loud at that one.
He hadn’t told anyone—not his few friends or his colleagues where he was going, so he could very well be on the last hours of his life and end up an appetizer for the coyotes and creatures of the desert night.
Shivering, he cranked the heat. It was cold in the desert in the middle of the night in November.
Thanksgiving was two weeks away.
He wondered if he would be alive to be thankful for anything.
Chapter 23
Jovan jolted awake, the blaring of the silo alarm almost deafening. He looked at Liberty next to him, her eyes glowing their soft pink, her face contorted in uncertainty and fear.
“What is that?” she shouted.
“Alarm,” Jovan yelled as he got out of bed. He grabbed a t-shirt from the dresser drawer and turned to look at Liberty as he put it on.
“Do not leave this room, Liberty. Do you understand me? Do. Not. Leave. This. Room.”
She nodded, then curled under the covers.
He slipped on a pair of sweats over his boxers and ran for the stairs, not bothering with the elevator.
The rest of the Warriors were in the War Room when he arrived, looking at the big, white screen. A male with a little bit of stubble for hair was standing in front of the camera along the inner fence scribbling on pad of paper.
“That’s the FBI fucker from Phoenix,” Talin mumbled, hitting a few keys and plunging the silo into silence.
After a moment, the FBI guy held up the pad of paper.
I’m not here to hurt you.
“Then go away, cocksucker,” Cohen muttered.
The male looked pleadingly into the camera.
Please. I just want to talk to you. I received a note about you a year ago.
“I bet that would be the ‘you have no idea what’s coming for you,’ my brother laid on me,” Hudson said, cracking his knuckles.
“Screw this asshole,” Rayner said, pointing at the screen, “he doesn’t even know we’re in here. We have no obligation to answer him.”
They watched as the male scribbled more on the pad, then looked up in the camera again before showing what he wrote.
I know where they are. The ones like you. I can help you get them.
A litany of ripe curses permeated the air.
“We have to talk to him,” Cohen said quietly.
“No, we don’t,” Rayner said. “We don’t know if he’s lying or what the deal is.”
I know your eyes glow at night, just like theirs do.
“You can’t make that shit up, Rayner,” Talin said. “He’s got to be telling the truth.”
The room went quiet for a moment.
“Well, I guess that’s where Jovan comes in,” Hudson said, his bright yellow gaze meeting Jovan’s green one.
Jovan sighed. Sure, he was getting better at controlling his gift, but did he trust himself to make such a judgment? He supposed so. Kind of. “And what if he’s lying?”
“I’ll take him out myself and put him eight feet under,” Hudson growled.
“And I’ll help you,” Noah said. “That fucker upset Abby by setting off that damn alarm. And no one but me upsets Abby.”
Chapter 24
Blake held up his notebook to the camera for the third time. He expected something to happen, but nothing did. Maybe they weren’t even inside.
Feeling defeated, he walked toward the inner fence and stood there for a moment. He would have to scale the inner fence, then a second fence. Both looked like mountains, and he didn’t have the energy for any mountain climbing.
One minute he was looking at the fences, the next he was eating dirt. Before he could get used to that scenario, he was back on his feet again and being hauled by the back of his jacket. As he sputtered to breathe, as well as maintain his balance, he glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw nothing on either side.
As far as he could tell, a ghost was dragging him through the desert floor.
Suddenly, he felt himself flying backward then crashed against metal. His brain sang, his skull throbbed, and he closed his eyes to try to regain his equilibrium.
“Jesus,” he hissed, leaning over and bringing his hand to his head. Heard a click, and then the cold, hard barrel of a gun pushed his chin up.
He opened his eyes and was greeted with the piercing yellow stare of a man who looked like he was searching for any reason to shoot him, and that included socks that didn’t match.
Neither said a word. Blake was mesmerized by the yellow glow.
“You want to tell me what you’re doing out here, princess?” the yellow-eyed man said.
Blake thought about going hand-to-hand with the guy, but then three other men appeared, one with orange eyes, one with green, and one with red. Blake wasn’t any slouch standing at six foot two and a good two hundred pounds, but these guys had a few inches and at least forty pounds on him.
Not to mention, their eyes were glowing like they had their own Energizer Bunny attached to their retinas.
After a quick evaluation, Blake was certain he was on the losing end of any physical altercation. However, oddly enough, he felt absolutely no fear, and he couldn’t hold back the sarcasm that broiled to the surface from being tossed around. “I was looking for the belle of the ball, asshole. It’s too bad I don’t look good in yellow.”
Blake heard one of the other men snicker.
The barrel of the gun moved up right between his eyes.
“Let’s get a few things clear, sugar,” Yellow Eyes drawled, as if he were about to do a reading from a dictionary. “First, none of us like being woken up at night by an alarm, which is what you tripped when you decided that minding your own business wasn’t enough for you. Second, you scared the females of the house, which makes me even crankier. Third, you better watch your smart mouth or this gun is going to be your midnight snack. Understand?”
Blake nodded, deciding to keep the sarcasm to a minimum for now.
“Now that we have that cleared up, you have exactly one minute to tell us why you’re here and give us a good reason not to put a third eye right here.”
The gun was pushed harder in the skin between his eyes.
“Time starts now, asshole.”
Blake took a deep breath. “I know there was a crash out in the middle of the Sonoran Desert by Phoenix. There were people . . . beings . . . whatever . . . like you who were captured by the FBI. Their eyes glow at night like yours do. I know where they’re being kept, and I can take you to them.”
None of the men said anything for a moment.
“And? What do you want in return, because I know you’re not here out of the goodness of your heart,” the guy with the shiny green eyes said.
Blake nodded. “I–I need to understand what I am, and I think you have the answers.”
“And what exactly do you think you are?” Green Eyes asked.
“I don’t know,” Blake said, taking a deep breath. He had never told another soul the story of his father, and here he was about to spill the beans to four strangers, and one had a gun to his head. He seriously questioned his own sanity. “When I was fifteen I killed my father and he disintegrated to ash.”
All four men cursed, and the gun was cocked. Apparently, that hadn’t been a good thing to say.
“Noah, what do you want me to do to this cocksucker?” Yellow Eyes asked.
“Look, I’m not here to hurt you. I don’t know what the hell my father turning into ash means. It’s why I’m here. I need to know.”
“Jovan,” the guy with the orange eyes said.
Green Eyes stepped forward and put his hand on Blake’s shoulder, that emerald stare never leaving Blake’s face.
“You honestly don’t know what it meant when
your dad turned to ash?” Green Eyes said.
“No.”
“And you know where the others like us are being kept?”
“I do. I’ve seen them with my own eyes.”
There was a beat of silence. “He’s telling the truth,” Green Eyes said.
Orange Eyes cursed again. “Why can’t anything just be simple?” he mumbled.
A minute passed, and Blake felt the first inkling of fear.
Orange Eyes sighed and ran his fingers through his brown hair. “Knock him out, Hudson, just make sure you don’t kill him.”
Blake began to argue, but then felt the sharp pain as the butt of the gun slammed into the side of his head. He briefly saw stars, then felt his knees go weak.
Before his world went to black, he heard someone say, “This guy is big for a human.”
Chapter 25
Liberty stayed in the quarters as Jovan instructed. She sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for something to happen. She shook with fear.
The alarm had been disconcerting, but the length of time Jovan was gone had worried her the most. What was going on?
She heard the elevator stop, and then the large wooden door opened. Jovan came in, and she felt such relief that she ran over and threw herself at him before she realized what she had done.
Grabbing onto his neck, she held on tight.
“Hey,” he said quietly, “it’s okay, Liberty. Were you afraid? It’s okay.” His large hands ran up and down her back as he held her, and she felt moisture on her cheeks.
Letting go of him, she took a step back. “My eyes seem to be leaking,” she said.
“You’re crying,” Jovan said, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “It’s a response your body has to emotions.”
“Truly, I was frightened, but then very relieved to see you. I would think that I would not cry if I were happy about something.”
Jovan laughed as he held her face in his hands and continued to wipe away the tears that tracked down her cheeks. “I’ve found in my time here that females tend to cry for almost every emotion.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’ve seen them cry when they’re happy, sad, angry . . . it’s really quite confusing for a male when he sees a female in tears and realizes it could be for many different reasons.”
Liberty shut her eyes. The warmth in her stomach blossomed at Jovan’s touch, and she sighed when he pulled his hands away.
“What happened?” she asked as he moved to the bed.
“We have a visitor. An FBI agent. He’s locked up in the gym downstairs.”
“An FBI agent? Jovan, those are the letters on the coats of those who took our people!”
“I know, Liberty.” Jovan slid into bed and threw his arm over his eyes. “I’ve got to go down and watch him in a few hours, so I need to get some sleep.”
Liberty turned off the light and got into bed as well. “Jovan, won’t he hurt us?”
Jovan turned to look at her. “No. We’ll kill him before he can hurt anyone.”
Liberty shivered at the coldness in his voice and his words. Yet, the FBI was one of the enemies of their people now.
“Nothing’s going to happen to you, Liberty. I give you my word.”
She nodded up at the ceiling and felt the hot sting of tears in her eyes again. She wiped at them before they could fall.
“Liberty, talk to me. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Liberty didn’t know where to begin. The ache in her stomach was becoming worse, she was terrified of being taken by the FBI, she was on a new planet with so many rules and customs she didn’t understand . . .
“I do believe I’m feeling sorry for myself,” she said. “I feel . . . I feel very overwhelmed with my circumstances, Jovan.”
“Aw, fuck. Come here, Liberty.”
She moved toward him, and he maneuvered her so that her head lay in the crook of his arm, and he held her. She gently placed her hand on his chest, and he ran his hand up and down her arm. The softness of his shirt and his warm, masculine scent gave her solace.
“Everything’s going to be okay, Liberty. I promise.”
They lay in silence for a moment, and she was comforted by how right it felt to be held by Jovan. She felt her fear and uncertainty dissipate a bit. There was something on her mind that she had been meaning to ask him.
“Jovan,” she said in a quiet voice. “I do have one question.”
“Sure. Anything, Liberty. What’s up?”
“Well, now that I think about it, I have two.”
“Go ahead.”
“How did you get that picture on your skin on your back?”
“It’s called a tattoo. You go to a tattoo parlor, tell them what picture you want and where you want it, and they take a machine with a needle on it and put the ink in your skin. Most people get something that has meaning.”
It sounded painful, but Liberty did like the idea of having a picture of something significant on her skin.
“What does the skull with the knife through its eye socket represent?”
Jovan was quiet for a moment. “It symbolizes what I used to feel, before I met you. My gift was driving me crazy.”
Liberty let that sink in and found that she really didn’t have a response. She just couldn’t image the pain he had been in that a skull with a knife through its eye represented how he felt. She moved on to the second question.
“Jovan, what is this fucking I hear all you males talking about?”
There was a long slice of silence, and Liberty shut her eyes thinking that she had broken boundaries again.
“Excuse me?”
“My apologies. Never mind.”
“Liberty, there’s nothing to apologize for. I just didn’t understand the question.”
“This . . . fucking. I heard it when I worked in the club where the females disrobed their clothes. I hear it here. I hear it used to describe things or as an object. I don’t understand what it is. For instance, you just used it a little while ago.”
Jovan moved under the covers, but kept her close.
After another moment of silence, he said, “I think you need to talk to a female about that.”
Chapter 26
Holy hell. What was fucking? It was what his body was raring to do right at this very second. He hadn’t been thinking when he pulled Liberty closer; he had just wanted to make her feel better. What he should have been thinking was how to control the erection he had been trying to sleep with for the past few nights, and her closeness was making it worse.
And now she wanted to talk about fucking and what it meant, and all he could think about was how badly he wanted to show her exactly what it was.
She’s Noah’s sister.
You will be beaten within an inch of your life if you touch her sexually.
Right. Good things to remember.
He closed his eyes.
“Do you think Doctor Beverly is a good person to talk to about that? I’m thinking of seeing her for something else.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure, but I thought I should talk to the doctor about it since Cohen is unwell.”
Jovan nodded. He wanted to press further to find out what was wrong with her, but decided this convo was already uncomfortable enough for him, and he really, really needed to get some sleep.
And in order to do that, he needed to think about something else besides the warm, little female next to him who smelled sweet, like chocolate, or fresh-baked cookies, or . . .
Visions of Liberty sprawled out on the bed covered in chocolate danced in his mind.
He loved chocolate.
Okay, this wasn’t helping.
He turned his thoughts to the son of a Colonist who was being held in their gym being watched by Hudson. Wow. How messed up was that? They had a son of a Colonist in their silo, for God sakes.
It was baffling. First, the Colonists were their enemies. Not only did Jovan hate them for being such awful
criminals, but he hated them because they had outsmarted the Saviors by taking on human forms, and he despised being bested on anything.
The tricky thing about the Colonists’ offspring was that the bad genes might or might not be passed down. Sometimes it skipped many generations. Sometimes it hit every generation, and the evil needed to be stopped. So having that guy down in the gym went against the grain of everything the Six Saviors had tried to eradicate for over two hundred years.
Frankly, he was having a hard time wrapping his brain around the situation.
After they had dragged Mr. FBI in and threw him on some mats in the gym, Hudson said he would watch him for a few hours as he was too jacked up to go back to sleep.
Jovan hoped he didn’t put a bullet in the Feebie’s brain. And he so wasn’t volunteering for the cleanup crew on that one if Hudson got trigger-happy.
One thing Jovan was certain of was that the guy had been truthful to his possibly rotten core, if he had read his emotions right, which he thought he had. The guy had no idea what his daddy was, and he did know where the others from their species were being held.
Jovan also found it interesting that he hadn’t detected any fear in the guy. None. The guy was one tough S.O.B., and Jovan had an idea that Mr. FBI wasn’t going to reveal the whereabouts of his kind until he got his answers.
Which was fine, but where did that leave all of them? Did Mr. FBI head back to his job? How would that work with him knowing their whereabouts, and when he came to, he would be an intelligence-gathering machine. How was this big rescue going to work? He hated to think it, but maybe those in the government clutches should just be chalked up to collateral damage. Although, he was pretty certain that Noah wouldn’t let it go down that way; he would insist that they go in after them. But what then? And what if they were rescuing some of The Platoon who wanted to kill Noah for his father’s doings? Not to mention the rest of the Saviors simply because they aligned their allegiance to Noah?
That meant that he had a target on his back simply for trying to do the original job he was sent to do.
