by Smith, S. E.
“What does Right of Justice mean?” she asked, meeting his gaze again.
“If the Council determines there is enough evidence, your uncle will face one of the three men in a fight to the death. If he survives, he will go free,” he reluctantly explained.
“But… you said to the death. Does that mean…? Oh!” she hissed in dismay.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Well, I won’t tell you how messed up that is, because I hope you already know!” she muttered.
“It is our way, Amelia,” he said.
He reluctantly released her when she pulled out of his arms and stood up. He followed her with his gaze when she walked over to the balcony railing and looked out over the city. In the distance, they could see spaceships lifting off from the ports.
“You know, for such an advanced, civilized world, you really aren’t any better than we are,” she bitterly remarked.
“Amelia,” he started to say.
She turned to look at him. Fresh tears dampened her cheeks. She wrapped her arms defensively around her waist and gazed back at him. He rose to his feet and walked over to her.
“She faked her death because of me. My mom—she told me how she realized my dad and others would always use us, no matter where we went.” She paused, gathering her remaining fortitude to tell him everything her mom had said, because she really needed to talk to someone about it. “It started with this one night, somehow my dad found out I was doing side jobs to earn extra cash. I wanted to save up enough so that we could run away together, Mom and me. He beat up my mom and told us there would be more if I ever tried to escape. I didn’t really understand—I thought he meant more for her, more bruises, broken bones, stuff that would make me feel so guilty because she was injured and I was fine, but stuff that would heal, you know? We could still run away together and we’d be ok, eventually. We just had to be more careful, so he wouldn’t hit her again. But… he told my mom that I didn’t need my legs to hack computers. He threatened to cripple me for life if she tried to take me away.” Her voice broke on the last word.
Derik tenderly wiped the stray tear running down her cheek. She sniffed loudly and looked down. He could sense her trying to withdraw from him, but she took a deep breath and continued.
“Usually he just locked me in the closet while he hurt my mom and never lifted a hand to me, but after we stole from Avilov, that was the first time he hit me. She was lying on the floor where he’d left her, and she had to watch. I could barely walk for a week,” she murmured, flinching away from those memories.
Derik flinched with her, and forced himself to remain silent. It was hard enough for her to tell him this. He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. She hugged him back, rubbed her nose against his shirt, and continued the story her mom had told her to explain why she’d let her little girl think she was dead for years.
“She said she knew then, that she couldn’t risk us leaving together, and she couldn’t stand it anymore, the way things were. She needed a permanent solution… a solution that didn’t involve her becoming someone else’s weapon against me… but the thing is, she always would be. She believed that. The person abusing us could be different, but as long as I was me, as long as I was useful…” Runt’s tears were flowing steadily down her cheeks now, but she was holding in her sobs with deep breaths.
“Why? Why did your mother not seek help? Surely someone would have assisted her,” Derik murmured, keeping his voice soft with great effort.
“Who could protect us? The local homeless shelter? The police that weren’t on DiMaggio’s payroll? At the time we couldn’t be sure who was and who wasn’t. The local welfare office workers were overworked and underpaid. They didn’t have the time or the energy to follow up, much less a way to protect us from the kind of powerful people we were dealing with. It was easy for my dad to move us around so that we slipped through the cracks. No, there was no one, and when DiMaggio found out about my dad stealing from Avilov, he sent Karl and a couple of his goons to our apartment. My dad had taken me on another job. When we got back, the police were all over the place. Dad pretended we lived in the apartment next door. Through the open door, I could see a body… covered with a bloodstained sheet. I couldn’t see her face, but I saw… I saw the chain of my mom’s locket—the matching one to mine—tangled in her fingers. My dad pulled me out of there,” she said in a numb voice.
“And your mother? If that was not her body, whose was it?” he angrily asked.
She swallowed and looked away from him. “The woman was one of my dad’s ‘lady friends’. My mom had been at the library doing research on Avilov when Karl and his friends showed up at our apartment. Life really does work in mysterious ways. My dad’s greed had connected him to DiMaggio and then to Avilov—and my mom’s twin brother was working for Avilov. Mom found an image of Avilov with Afon standing next to him. She recognized Afon immediately—especially since his name hadn’t changed yet.
“When she came home, she overheard Karl tell DiMaggio that he’d delivered the message. My dad and I would find our dearly departed wife and mother when we came back to our apartment, and we’d be putty in DiMaggio’s hands if we didn’t want Lou to be next. That’s what she heard him say… and she realized this was it, her only chance to disappear and search for some way to help me escape while everyone thought she was dead. My dad had a type, you know, so his lady friend kinda looked like my mom from a distance, and when my mom left her necklace with the body…. It turns out my mom isn’t such a bad hack herself, so she was able to stay ‘dead’ all this time. All those hours in the library trying to help me were a great learning experience for her.” She took in a shuddering breath before continuing. “Left-hand Lou moved us to a cheap motel in a neighboring city. Avilov declared he would painfully eliminate anyone who stole from him and anyone who knew about it. By the end of the year, I had lost both of my parents and was living on the streets. I changed my name to Runt, kept moving, and connected with a very powerful friend named RITA,” she said with a small smile as she remembered her first meeting with RITA.
Derik let that sink in for a moment, then said, “I wish now that I had killed Karl—and DiMaggio—when I had the chance. I can take care of that mistake. Avilov is dead. He is no longer a threat to you, and once Dolinski is dead, you would truly be free if you were ever to return to your world,” he growled.
She snorted and shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you? I don’t want people dead, not even slime balls like Karl or DiMaggio. Avilov, well, I’ll give you that one. He deserved whatever he got. Everyone makes choices in their lives. I know Avilov didn’t regret a thing, and would have done worse if given a chance, but others do regret what they’ve done, try like hell to do better, and have to live with their lowest moments ‘cause they did those things to survive and it worked. I think my uncle is one of those guys,” she insisted.
Derik shook his head in disagreement. RITA had gone over the long list of crimes that Dolinski had committed. The fact that the man had faked his own death and lived a crime-free life for two years did not erase what he had done before—including facilitating Adam Raines’ murder. Amelia and her mother were going to have to accept that the man had to pay a price for his choices.
“There is nothing I can do, Amelia. This is a decision for the Council,” he said with regret.
She stared up at him, her eyes glittering with anger and grief. He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly against his chest. She remained stiff for several seconds before she relaxed against him. Amusement swept through him when he felt her pulling up a mental wall to hide her thoughts. She was already planning something.
Chapter Nineteen
Runt woke to the feel of warm arms encircling her. She lay on her side, facing the window. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and vivid colors splashed across the sky like a child’s watercolor.
“I love this time of the day,” she whispered.
“Why?” he aske
d.
“It’s that moment between light and dark—when the world seems at peace,” she said, rolling over so that she was facing him. “You didn’t need to do this, you know.”
“Do what?” he murmured.
“Hold me,” she said.
“I happen to like holding you. You fit just right against me,” he teased.
She shook her head in response, and parted her lips to retort when his communicator chimed. He grimaced, rolled onto his back, and picked it up from the nightstand.
“This is Derik,” he responded.
“I need you in the Council chambers now. We have a problem,” J’kar tersely announced.
“I’m on my way,” Derik replied.
He placed the communicator back on the nightstand and turned to face her. She studied his troubled expression with an unwavering gaze.
“Is this about Afon?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Then, we are going to talk,” he said.
She blinked when he leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to her lips before he pulled away. She watched him slide from the large bed. Then she sat up and ran her hand through her tousled hair.
“I’ll have some clothing and breakfast brought to you,” he said, removing his shirt as he spoke.
“Swee… Sweet,” she mumbled.
Suddenly feeling too warm, she pushed the bedspread down. Derik’s muscles rippled across his back and shoulders as he shrugged off the shirt he’d worn last night. He tossed it into a basket near the door.
She gaped at him when his hands moved to his pants, and softly gasped when the waistband slid down, revealing a very nice set of buttocks. She moistened her lips. The guy had a seriously cute ass! If he turned around….
“If you need anything else…,” he was saying.
“Uh-huh,” she responded, having no idea what he was saying.
“Are you alright?” he asked, looking at her over his shoulder.
She forced her gaze to move from his ass to his face, and flushed when she saw his amused expression. He was doing this on purpose! Swallowing, she nodded.
“Of… course, I’m alright. It isn’t like… like I’ve never seen a naked guy before,” she muttered.
He rumbled in displeasure. “Remind me to ask you more about that when I get back,” he said before disappearing into the bathroom.
She sank back against the pillows and shook her head as she gazed up at the ceiling. “Damn, but I may never wash my eyes again,” she muttered.
It was true that he wasn’t the first guy she had seen naked. The difference was she had never wanted to look at the others—much less do other things to them. Just the thought of touching Derik’s smooth skin, cupping his firm butt cheeks, and seeing what he looked like from the front was enough to make her ache in places that had never ached before.
I can hear you, he mentally told her from the other side of the door.
Shit! Get out of my head! I’m having a private fantasy, she replied with a disgruntled hiss.
His chuckle swept through her already heated body and sent her scrambling from the bed. She ran her hands through her disheveled hair again.
I really need to know when this link is turned on and when it’s off! she thought.
We will always be linked from now on, he mentally stated.
Great! Just great! she growled.
Her body was reacting to him with a vengeance. She could feel every motion of his hand when he slid it over his body. She looked down at her tingling palm. The mark on it was clearly visible.
Well, two can play this game, she thought.
What game? he asked.
This one, she retorted mischievously.
Lifting her palm to her mouth, she ruthlessly ran her tongue over the mark. She gleefully scrunched her nose and smiled in satisfaction when she heard Derik’s sudden yelp followed by a loud crash and a string of curses. She added a little teeth to the action.
The sound of his footsteps heading for the door sent her scurrying for the exit. She looked over her shoulder as he appeared in the doorway to the bathroom. His hair was standing up in all different directions, still foamy with shampoo. Small globs of soap ran down his temple. Water dripped from his elbow as he fought to keep his grip on the towel that was loosely bunched around his waist. She froze, her parted lips millimeters from the mark.
“Don’t… you… dare!” he growled.
She licked from the edge of her palm all the way to the tip of her fingers in defiance. He jolted as if she’d sent a shock through him. The towel he was holding fell to the floor as he surged toward her—just as his communicator chimed again.
“Derik, where are you?” J’kar demanded from the communicator’s location on the bathroom counter.
“I’ll be there in two minutes,” he said in a loud voice, never taking his glittering gaze off of her. “This is not over.”
He stooped, grabbed his towel off the floor, and returned to the bathroom. Runt stood rooted to the spot by the door. Her hand remained frozen in front of her mouth while her eyes were fixated on the area below his belly button. She didn’t need to wonder what he looked like from the front anymore.
“Holy Moly, but he’s well-endowed!” she mumbled to herself.
Shaking her head, she looked down at the mark on her hand. In that moment, she knew that her life would always be tied to this unusual alien male—and it scared the hell out of her. Lifting her head, she stared at the empty doorway. She needed to talk to someone. She needed to talk to her mom.
Turning on her heel, she silently fled down the hallway and out of Derik’s living quarters. She ran along a long corridor, passing startled alien warriors and strangely dressed women, her heart pounding as she zipped through corridor after corridor. Only when she realized that she didn’t know where she was going did she slow to a stop. Stepping into an alcove, she pressed her back to the cool wall. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the micro-computer on her wrist.
“RITA, I need help,” she breathlessly murmured.
She blinked, startled when a female AI appeared with a strange man beside her. This RITA looked significantly different from the one she was used to seeing—much more than just a change in the outfit. Runt’s gaze moved to the man. He was definitely different.
“Oh, dear, is everything alright, Amelia?” the AI asked.
“You’re not RITA,” she blurted out.
“No, love. RITA is my Earthly sis. I’m RITA2, the Prime version of AI perfection,” RITA2 cheerfully greeted.
“Absolute perfection,” the male AI agreed with a warm smile.
RITA2 winked at her. “DAR and I have been working on a flirtation program. I think it is working marvelously,” she chuckled.
Ruth studied the beautiful AI standing in front of her, and frowned when she saw an unusual strand of code running between the woman and the man. She opened her mouth to ask about it, then decided it was none of her business.
“Can you help me find my mom?” she asked instead.
“Of course, love. Would you like us to escort you? I swear the palace has more corridors than the Pentagon back on Earth!” RITA2 said.
“Have you been to the Pentagon?” Runt asked.
RITA2 looked at her with a startled expression. “No, but my sis is always complaining about it. Ever since the Vice President of America and Tansy’s former director at CPAT turned out to be baddies, RITA and FRED have been spending a lot of time there—and other government buildings too, but none as large as the Pentagon,” RITA2 explained.
“Oh, yeah, I can see that. Cosmos asked me to design and run a program to review all personnel, contractors, and subcontractors who may be receiving funds from unregistered entities,” Runt murmured.
DAR smiled. “RITA is always gushing about how brilliant you are, which is why my mate and I were wondering…,” DAR began.
“Not now, sweetheart. Can’t you see that Amelia has enough on her mind,” RITA2 interrupted.
“Of course, love. I’m just concerned about your delicate programming issue,” DAR murmured, his eyes heating up.
“Wait until you see what Tilly is working on,” RITA2 murmured with a flirty glance.
“Is this like some kind of sex planet or something? I mean, is everyone here like horny all the time or what?” Runt asked in a bemused voice as she watched them and listened to the innuendo of their banter.
RITA2 burst out laughing, and Runt looked up when the lights began to glow really bright. She looked at RITA2 again and could see the swirling code multiplying. There was something seriously wrong. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that RITA2 was infected with malware. Shaking her head at her ludicrous thoughts, she reached out to touch the AI.
“Oh my. I think I might need to power down for a bit,” RITA2 said, lifting a hand to her head.
“I think that would be wise,” DAR agreed.
“My mom?” she quietly reminded RITA2.
“Of course, honey. Go down to the end of this corridor, make a left, and she is in the last room on the right,” RITA2 instructed before she abruptly faded.
Runt looked at DAR. “Is she okay?” she asked.
“No. I would like to speak with you later,” DAR replied.
Runt nodded, and the male AI disappeared. For a brief moment, she wondered if she’d fallen into an alternate universe. That feeling intensified when two warriors who were walking by paused to stare at her as if she was the alien…because that’s exactly what she was now.
“I’ve ended up in a frigging Sci-Fi movie,” she muttered as she scooted by them and took off down the corridor.
Chapter Twenty
“Derik, you need to see if Amelia can do something—anything—to help RITA2 and DAR,” Teriff ordered.
“Preferably before we end up with a dozen miniature RITA2s and DARs running around the palace,” J’kar said.
