Destiny's Shift

by Fall, Carly

  He sighed, listening to Liberty’s soft breathing. Somewhere in this mess of people wanting to kill him, he had to find time to work with Liberty on strengthening his shield, because he really, really needed space from her.

  Chapter 27

  “May I speak with you privately for a moment, Beverly?” Liberty was so nervous about this discussion, but the ache in her stomach had only gotten worse when Jovan held her last night. She was now certain it was him who was making her sick.

  “Of course,” Beverly said. She placed Killian in a bouncy chair and went over to Hudson who was chopping vegetables at the kitchen counter. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”

  He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “Sure, honey. I’ll keep an eye on Killian.”

  “Should we go talk in my quarters, Liberty?”

  “Yes.”

  They rode the elevator down in silence, Liberty’s nerves jangling harder by the moment.

  “Come in and sit,” Beverly led her over to a blue loveseat that faced a large TV. In the corner was Killian’s crib. “What can I help you with?”

  Liberty sighed. “I think I am ill.”

  “Why do you think that, Liberty? Are you feeling sick or is something hurting?”

  Liberty looked at her hands. “I believe that Jovan is making me sick.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “Why would you think that?”

  She met the very green eyes of Doctor Beverly, and they reminded her of Jovan’s at night, except they weren’t bright or as dark a green.

  “When I’m in proximity to him, I get an ache in my stomach, right here,” she pointed to her lower belly. “I also feel moisture between my legs.”

  “Oh.”

  There was more silence while Liberty studied her hands. Finally, she met Beverly’s gaze.

  “Do you like Jovan, Liberty? Do you like spending time with him?”

  “Oh, very much so. He is a wonderful male.”

  Beverly nodded and sat back in the couch. “I don’t think Jovan’s making you sick.”

  Liberty disagreed and told the doctor how bad the ache in her belly had been last night when Jovan was comforting her.

  Beverly smiled. “Honey, he’s not making you sick. I believe what you’re feeling is a strong sexual attraction to him. Did you ever join with anyone on SR44?”

  Liberty shook her head. Sexual attraction? To Jovan?

  “Being near him . . . how can I say this . . . turns you on.”

  “Turns me on?”

  Beverly exhaled and smiled. “Yes.”

  Liberty looked around the room. Done in blues and browns, it was a pleasant place to tarry.

  “I don’t believe I understand, Beverly.”

  Beverly nodded. “Would you be okay if I called in Abby and Faith? Maybe they can help me explain it better.”

  “That would be fine.”

  Beverly walked over to the phone on the nightstand and spoke in low tones. She came back over and sat down.

  “Jovan also told me to ask you what this fucking was. I hear it, but I’m confused by the word. I have heard it used to describe something, and also as an object.”

  Beverly smiled and patted Liberty’s hand. “We’ll cover that as well.”

  Chapter 28

  Jovan punched the boxing bag wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a set of Nikes, sweat rolling down his torso and scattering around him from the tips of his hair. He’d relieved Hudson from watching Mr. FBI about an hour ago, and had been surprised to see the guy still lying on the mats where they had dropped him.

  “Hey, man.” Jovan offered a fist and Hudson bumped. “Is he alive?”

  Hudson shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Did you think to check?”

  “Nope. But I’ll bet your left nut he’s fine. I didn’t hit him hard enough to kill him.”

  “Hands off my nuts, Hudson.”

  “I don’t want to palm them, just bet them.”

  Jovan went over to the FBI guy and saw he was still breathing, which he took as a good sign.

  “I’m outta here,” Hudson called from the doorway.

  “Later, man.”

  Jovan stared at Mr. FBI a few more minutes, then decided he’d get in a workout. As he hit the bag, his thoughts turned to Liberty.

  He one hundred and ten percent needed her out of his quarters and tucked away into her own. He was absolutely attracted to her, and the drive to have sex with her was tearing through him like a semi through toilet paper. The urge was just on the verge of being overwhelming, and that wouldn’t be a good thing for her, or for him.

  Jovan swung around and gave the bag a solid roundhouse kick.

  Things were definitely going to be different now that he pretty much had control of his gift. Liberty had told him that the control would grow and become second nature to him as time went on. Then he could use it at will, turning it off and on like a TV.

  That rocked.

  As he pounded the bag, he wondered what Beverly was going to say to Liberty about the “fucking” question. Man, that had just about sent him over the edge when she laid that one on him. Again, he reminded himself that she was Noah’s sister, and she didn’t need to be mixed up with anyone like him. Noah had been right when he said Jovan had a bit of a wild streak. That was before his gift became so strong. He had loved to party, and he was all about adrenaline rushes and pushing boundaries. Nothing excited him more than the hunt for a Colonist, riding his Harley, or the quest for a female.

  He spun again, slamming the bag with his size thirteens. Maybe that was what he needed. Maybe getting a little action now that he didn’t feel like hiding in a sixty-foot hole every time he touched someone would take his mind off of Liberty.

  Twenty years was just way too long.

  He put his hands on his knees to rest for a moment and heard a groan. He’d almost forgotten about Mr. FBI.

  As he strode over to him, he grabbed a towel off the towel rack, and took off his gloves and tossed them aside. Mr. FBI rolled over so he was facing Jovan and put his hand on his head. Jovan got down on his haunches in front of him, wiping his face.

  “Rise and shine, princess.”

  “Oh, man.” Mr. FBI squinted up at him.

  “You were out for quite a while. Either Hudson hit you pretty hard or you’re a Grade-A pussy.”

  The guy muttered something Jovan couldn’t hear and sat up.

  “Where am I?”

  “Well, you’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.” Jovan studied the man and wondered what his fate would be.

  “Can I get some water, please?”

  Jovan stood. “A princess with manners. How nice.” He walked across the room to a small refrigerator and got out a bottle of water.

  When he turned to walk back, Mr. FBI was now standing, although still looking a little woozy. Jovan handed him the bottle, and he drank it down in one long drink.

  When he was finished, Jovan reached out to take the bottle. With one hand he grabbed it and wrapped his other hand around the guy’s throat.

  “Do you know what your daddy was?”

  Mr. FBI’s face began to turn red, but he shook his head and didn’t fight Jovan.

  “And you know where my people are being held by your government?”

  He nodded.

  Jovan concentrated, but he felt nothing but truth rolling off the guy, and he became more confident that he was reading him correctly.

  And still no fear.

  This guy was a ballbreaker.

  Jovan let go of his throat, and Mr. FBI began coughing. Jovan turned to throw the bottle away, and Mr. FBI said, “What does a guy have to do to get a shot of whiskey around here?”

  Turning, Jovan said, “You like whiskey?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Jovan checked the clock on the wall.

  “And I’m hungry.”

  “Don’t push it, fucker.”

  “A guy’s gotta eat, man.”

&
nbsp; True.

  Jovan walked over to the phone and dialed Noah. “The princess is awake and wants some whiskey.”

  “Did you . . . test him again? Or whatever the hell you do?” Noah asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Anything?”

  “As truthful as a saint on Sunday.”

  There was a moment of silence. “All right. Bring the asshole up here to the War Room.”

  Jovan hung up the phone and walked over to Mr. FBI. “Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Wherever I say we are, douchebag.”

  Mr. FBI looked at him hard. “Listen, I’m tired of being treated like I’m a piece of crap. I don’t know what it’s going to take to make you fuckers realize that I’m here to actually help you. I’m going against my government, and I’m going to lose my job and lose everything so you can get your people back and I can find out what I am. Why the hell can’t you get that through your thick skull?”

  Jovan watched as Mr. FBI paced around the room, his arms across his chest.

  “What do I have to do? Make some sort of vow? Cut off my left nut?”

  Jovan grinned. “Watch what you offer, Mr. FBI. There are some who would like to see that.”

  “Blake.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “My name is Blake. Not douchebag, Dorothy, Princess, or Mr. FBI.”

  Jovan studied the man. The guy had brass balls, and Jovan’s respect for him increased. He might be a son of a Colonist, but that didn’t always mean bad news. Sometimes the evil skipped generations, and maybe it had happened here. Blake seemed like a solid guy. He hadn’t tried to attack Jovan at all, and Jovan knew that he was telling the God-honest truth about everything.

  Maybe he needed to go a little easier on Blake.

  “All right, Blake. My name’s Jovan. Let’s head upstairs, get you that whiskey, and have a little more chitchat.”

  Chapter 29

  The elevator doors opened, and Jovan and Blake were greeted by Orange Eyes, Yellow Eyes, and Red Eyes, except for this meeting, their eyes were all black, which let Blake know that they were sitting somewhere in the daytime. He remembered the beings in Area 2 lost the glow of their eyes when the sun came up.

  Yellow Eye’s gun immediately found its place on Blake’s forehead.

  “Oh, for God sakes,” Blake muttered. “Do we really need to do this again?”

  “Yep.”

  “Follow me,” Orange Eyes said.

  Blake did as he was told, falling in step behind him with Jovan and Red Eyes as his wingmen. Blake turned slightly, and Yellow Eyes gave him a small, unfriendly smile, and then pointed the gun at him again.

  They led him through the kitchen area and down a hall. The place was beautiful. Plush gray carpet muted their footsteps, and as they rounded a corner, Blake caught a glimpse of a dining room with a large oak table. He was led into a room that had three walls of glass and a large, black marble table surrounded by plush leather chairs. The wall had a large white screen on it, and in the corner were a couple of computers. Blake felt anxious, but there still wasn’t any fear. He knew that he was close to finding out what he really was.

  “Sit,” Orange Eyes said.

  Blake did as he was told, the leather chair creaking as he sat down. He watched the others find their chairs, all staring at him.

  “What’s your name?” Orange Eyes asked.

  “Blake. Blake Birmingham.”

  “I’m Noah. I’m in charge around here.”

  Blake nodded.

  “That’s Rayner,” he said, pointing at Red Eyes. “The guy sitting next to you is Jovan, and this is Hudson,” he said, hitching a finger at the guy with the gun. “He’s got an itchy finger and loves to shoot your kind, so don’t do anything stupid.”

  Blake nodded again. Now that the introductions were over, might as well get down to business. “So what’s my kind?” Based on his father’s behavior, he knew it wasn’t good, but he might as well finally get the truth.

  “Hold up, Blake,” Noah said. “The deal is that we tell you what you are and you tell us where our people are, correct?”

  Blake nodded. “That’s the way I remember it.”

  “Okay then,” Noah said. “You, my friend, are what is known as the son of a Colonist.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “And that means what, exactly?”

  Jovan turned to him. “Let me guess. Your daddy was a cocksucker. He probably beat you or molested you or locked you in a closet, and he did the same to your mom.”

  Blake nodded, running his hand over his skull-trimmed hair.

  “So your daddy was one of us, except he’d gone bad. He’d committed some terrible crimes on SR44, our planet, and was sent to The Colony. It’s a moon of ours that doesn’t get much daylight. Our SR44 forms are the color you saw our eyes glow last night. When one of our kind was sent to The Colony, the soul turns black. The evil takes over. Some of those bastards escaped and made their way down to Earth. We,” he said, gesturing around the table, “were sent to kill them. It was supposed to be a short mission, but things got fucked up and we’ve been here a lot longer than we thought we’d be.”

  Blake studied his reflection in the shine of the black marble table. A black-souled criminal was his father, and this didn’t surprise him. In fact, his father being from another planet didn’t faze him either. He knew he had bad shit flowing through his veins; he just didn’t know how deep it went.

  Yet, a part of him felt some relief that he wasn’t as bad as his father. He wasn’t pure evil. Some of his mom’s good genes had made it through. Besides that urge it kill when he got angry, things could be a lot worse for him.

  “What about the other . . . Colonists?” he asked, turning to Jovan.

  “We’re knocking them off one by one, but most of us think it’s a never ending cycle because the evil is passed down through the generations.”

  “Jovan,” Hudson said, nodding toward Jovan’s hands.

  Jovan put his hand on the back of Blake’s neck, and he began to pull away.

  “Relax, Blake,” Jovan said, and he did.

  “Have you ever killed anyone, Blake?” Hudson said.

  Blake was silent for a moment. “No, I haven’t. I’ve thought about it though, but I’ve never acted on it. Not like I’m walking down the street and I want to kill someone. It’s usually when I’m pissed off.”

  Hudson nodded and looked at Jovan.

  “Nothing but the truth, man,” Jovan said as he let go of Blake’s neck.

  “Why the hell do you keep grabbing me and asking me questions?”

  “I’m using my voodoo powers on you.”

  There was silence around the table for a few minutes.

  “Jovan said you like whiskey,” Noah said.

  Blake nodded. “I think I could use some right about now.”

  “Jovan, you’re with me,” Noah said.

  Blake watched Noah and Jovan leave. He glanced over at Hudson who glared at him. Definitely not the friendliest one in the bunch.

  He thought about what he had learned. So he was the son of evil. Not that it surprised him—his father had been a cocksucker. He realized that the Intel also revealed that he was a half-breed? Part SR44ian and human. He obviously didn’t get any cool psychic ninja skills like Jovan, just a good dose of crap DNA.

  Super.

  He glanced over at Hudson again and wondered if he had anything special about him.

  “Do you have any otherworldly skills?”

  “Nope. I’m just a normal, everyday, run-of-the-mill assassin.”

  Great.

  He turned to Rayner. “What about you?”

  Rayner shrugged. “I see people who aren’t alive, but aren’t dead.”

  “Wow.”

  “Pretty much.”

  The three sat in silence for another few minutes.

  “Exactly how long does it take to get a bottle of whiskey?” Rayner grumbled.

 
Blake wondered the same thing.

  A few minutes later, Noah and Jovan came in, trailed by four women, one carrying a baby.

  And no whiskey.

  “Goddammit!” Rayner said. “Faith, I don’t want you near this guy!”

  “Rayner, please relax,” she said, and went to sit on his lap, her eyes never leaving Blake.

  “Beverly, come sit next to me please,” Hudson said in a tight voice. The blonde woman with the baby took the chair next to him. Hudson then looked at Noah. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Relax, Hudson,” the woman with brown hair said. “We wanted to meet him. Noah and Jovan tried to stop us.”

  Blake caught Hudson grumbling something about females never listening to anyone.

  A smaller woman peeked around Jovan. Blake met her stare.

  “This is Liberty,” Jovan said, bringing her forward. “She’s got the same gift I do, except it is much more powerful. We’d like to ask you some questions with her touching you.”

  Blake nodded, and Liberty came toward him, Jovan on her heels. He noted the ringlets that hung around her face, and her wide, dark eyes. She was really pretty.

  Jovan snarled at him.

  Liberty sat in the chair next to Blake and smiled at him. “Hello,” she said demurely.

  “Hey.”

  Jovan stood directly behind her, staring daggers at Blake.

  “If I may place my hand on your arm now.”

  “Sure.”

  Her tiny hand moved to his arm, and she stared at him.

  The rest of the men in the room peppered him with questions, most he had answered before. After a few minutes, the questioning stopped.

  “What do you think, Liberty?” Jovan asked.

  Liberty removed her hand. “I do believe your original assessment of the situation was correct, Jovan. He is truthful in his words. He means no harm.”

  Blake looked around the room and couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that crossed his face. He’d passed their tests and was ready to hear more about his heritage. He also knew time was ticking for the beings in Area 2.

  “Hudson, take him back downstairs,” Noah said. “We’ve got to figure out what to do with him.”

  Dammit. Apparently, he wasn’t out of the woods with these people, these SR44 beings, yet.