Valentine Kisses: A Kiss to Last a Lifetime

by Abigail Drake

  Morgan beamed, his face covered in bright pink lipstick. “You did it. You were absolutely amazing.”

  Even when he put me down, I still felt like I floated. I’d never been prouder of myself in my whole entire life.

  #

  Later, I found Cliff and Nadia sitting alone in the great room. Cliff no longer had the crutches. He gave me a friendly wave. Nadia scowled at me, still angry about how I’d zapped her. Being a Nil kind of sucked.

  “I haven’t had a chance to thank you for saving me. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

  She didn’t answer, but I could see something soften a bit in her expression. Cliff jumped in to smooth things over.

  “Don’t mention it, Lola. We were happy to help. Would you like a coffee? It tastes terrible, but it’s full of caffeine.”

  I grinned. “That sounds perfect.”

  He walked with a tiny limp, but seemed much improved. “How’s your leg?”

  “Better,” he said. “The doctor said I can go back to my normal duties tomorrow. Lucky me.”

  He handed me the coffee in a chipped white mug. They had no cream, sugar, or spoons to stir it with, but I didn’t care. Nadia watched with a smirk as I picked up my coffee and took a long sip. As soon as the liquid hit my tongue, I sighed with pleasure.

  “Perfect. Black and bitter. Like my soul.”

  “You are as dark as a marshmallow,” she said, finally cracking a smile. “You probably eat rainbows and fart butterflies.”

  Cliff joined in. “And she rides a unicorn to work.”

  He pulled up his sleeves and rested his elbows on the table. Both of his wrists were tattooed in long, solid, black bands that encircled his forearms. I looked at Nadia’s forearms and realized she had the same bands.

  “Cool tats. Do they signify something?”

  Cliff’s gaze met Nadia’s and something odd passed between then. “Not at all,” he said as he finished his coffee and got up. “I have to meet with Morgan about new safety procedures.”

  “I’ll come with you,” said Nadia. She whacked me on my arm. It was meant to be a friendly gesture, but she nearly knocked me over. “Bye, Lola.”

  I watched them walk away, an odd prickling feeling rushing over my skin. For the first time ever, I understood exactly what the sensation meant. My super special Channeller vibes were sending me a warning.

  Cliff had just lied to me.

  #

  My next series of lessons were not quite as fun nor as rewarding as the first. They mostly involved me trying to achieve the same results without kissing Morgan. I finally figured out that if I closed my eyes and imagined kissing him, it worked almost as well as the real thing.

  “But not nearly as fun,” I murmured to myself.

  Morgan looked up from the computer screen he was using to input my results. “Did you say something?”

  “Nope. What do we have to do next?”

  He stood up and stretched. “I’d say it’s time to teach you how stop ‘zapping’ people as you call it.”

  I wiggled my fingers. “Ready when you are.”

  Morgan taught me how to control my emotions and showed me that holding back the electricity was simply the opposite of sending it forth. If I focused really hard, I could pull the energy back, storing it in an imaginary vat deep inside my belly. It helped if I inhaled as I did it, drawing the energy from my fingertips as I drew in my breath. I caught on quickly. Morgan looked pleasantly surprised.

  “Nice work, Lola. We shall practice more tomorrow.”

  He went back to working on his computer. Sort of a major let down. “Oh. Okay.”

  I turned to go back to my room, but Morgan stopped me. “I hope you are not taking any of this personally.” His gaze never left his computer screen.

  “What?”

  He looked up, his dark eyes shuttered. Very different from the man who’d done a happy dance and kissed me the last time we were alone in this room together.

  “I am not the sort of person who forms attachments. It’s better you know that right away.”

  “Good,” I said with a false, brittle smile. “Neither am I.”

  I walked away with my head held high, hiding the fact I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut, and went straight to Lolita for some baby time. Amanda stepped into the room. Her face lit up when she saw me. “I wondered when you’d stop by.”

  “I couldn’t stay away.” Lolita began to fuss in her cradle. “May I?”

  “Of course.”

  I picked her up and held her close. She stopped crying, and immediately the tension left me as I focused on the warm bundle in my arms. I sat down and began to rock her, stroking her velvety cheek.

  “I hope you don’t mind. I just can’t get enough of her.”

  Amanda sank down into a chair right next to me with a soft sigh. “I don’t mind at all. I appreciate what you did for me the night she was born. It was very kind of you.”

  “My pleasure. I got to see Lolita make her grand entrance into the world.”

  “I wish her father could have seen it, too.” I didn’t have to be a Channeller to feel her pain. It flowed out in of her and surrounded her in a nearly palpable way, like a cloud of grief.

  “What was Josh like?”

  She smiled, remembering. “Strong. Stubborn. Kind. There were those who tried to convince me not to marry a Nil. They said no good could come of it. But I didn’t care. I loved him too much to worry about it. And, truth be told, I have no regrets about my decision. Although I lost him far too early, he gave me Lolita.”

  Lolita yawned and stretched, her perfect little pink mouth forming a tiny circle. She lifted her arm above the blanket, and that’s when I saw it. A black tattoo, just like the tattoos I’d seen on Cliff and Nadia’s arms. I gasped and pulled the blanket off her other arm. There was one on there, too.

  “You had her tattooed? She’s only two days old.”

  “Those are not tattoos.” Amanda frowned in confusion and showed me her forearms, also marked with black bands. “They’re the Rings of Merdonia. They record time served.”

  “What do you mean ‘time served’?”

  I felt a rush of fear from Amanda so sudden and powerful it almost made me nauseated. “You’re a Channeller. You would not understand. If you’ll excuse me, I want to put Lolita to bed so I can take a nap.”

  I handed her the baby and walked sadly away. I’d been dismissed.

  #

  The next day, after a long, grueling training session with Morgan which involved no kissing at all, I walked back to my room alone, feeling dejected and tired. Distracted, I made a wrong turn and ended up going down a dark hallway I’d never seen before.

  “I hate today,” I muttered under my breath, about to turn back, when I noticed something on the wall. A memo of sorts. It looked like it had been hanging there a while.

  Per the warden: All cell blocks must report to the cafeteria during appointed times, unless special permission is granted. Disregard for this rule is a punishable offense.

  I swallowed hard. Cell blocks?

  I thought about the tan and black uniforms. The terrible food. The tiny rooms that only locked from the outside. And I thought of baby Lolita, snuggled safe in her bed, with those ugly black bands on her sweet little arms.

  The Rings of Merdonia, recording time served. A slow, scary realization crept into my brain.

  “This is a jail?”

  I heard footsteps and the muffled sound of voices coming toward me, and ducked into a doorway to hide. I didn’t want to face anyone at the moment. I still had to process the fact I was in some kind of alien prison helping a bunch of criminals.

  Two people approached, a man and a woman. They couldn’t see me, even when they got very close. I couldn’t see them either, but I could hear them as they carried on a heated discussion in harsh, angry whispers.

  “What are you talking about?” asked the woman. “He’s not going to hurt her. A Channeller is far too valuable to risk. Morgan knows
that.”

  My heart pounded in my chest. They were talking about me.

  “He doesn’t care,” said the man, his voice so low I could barely hear him. “He doesn’t care about any of us. He’s not our friend or our savior. He’s our warden. No more, and no less.”

  I thought about Morgan’s arrogance, the way others deferred to him. The way he dressed in normal clothes when everyone else had on either those ugly jumpsuits or SWAT gear. He wasn’t their leader. He was their jailor. He’d played me, just like every other guy I’d ever known, and I’d fallen for it. I was such an idiot.

  The woman grabbed the man and shoved him into the wall, less than a foot from where I hid. I tried not to jump or make a sound. I pressed a hand over my mouth and stayed deep in the shadows.

  “Don’t let anyone hear you talk like that or you could be in some real trouble. What’s wrong with you lately? You haven’t been yourself.”

  “I don’t want to see her get hurt. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  “She’s a Channeller. It’s her job.”

  “But she doesn’t understand.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “I don’t like any of this, and I don’t trust Morgan. The sooner this is over, the better.”

  “Until then, take my advice. Keep your mouth shut. No good can come of this. Believe me.”

  As they walked away, I stood alone in the dark passageway, my breath coming out in short violent puffs. For a few minutes, I was torn between being really angry and really scared. Fortunately, the anger won.

  As soon as it felt safe, I left. A woman on a mission, I was pissed, and wanted to give a certain arrogant and annoying warden a piece of my mind.

  Morgan’s quarters proved relatively easy to locate. I just went to the highest point in the building, and looked for the fanciest door. I let myself in, surprised to find the door unlocked, and wandered through his vast apartment until I found him sitting in a den with his back to a huge window. The entire city, lit up behind him, provided a dramatic backdrop, but he seemed oblivious to it. He sat still as a statue, staring at his laptop.

  “Quite the digs you have here.”

  “Lola.”

  He looked up at me in surprise, his expression almost comical. I wasn’t laughing. I paced around the room, admiring the artwork and the plush carpet. The den wasn’t the only nice room in Morgan’s apartment. I’d inspected many other rooms on my way in. Most Merdonians made do with single, stark room. Morgan, the warden, lived in a luxurious penthouse.

  “Where did you get all this stuff?”

  I walked around his desk and sat on it, my legs brushing against his arm. I didn’t care if I crushed important papers with my bottom. I planted myself mere inches away from Morgan and dared him to back away.

  He didn’t. My legs dangled over the side of the desk, so I crossed them. Slowly. Purposefully. Morgan stared at my legs. He couldn’t help himself. A small consolation.

  “I own a business. Several, actually. They have been very…lucrative. I acquire antiques because it pleases me to do so.”

  I had an eye for expensive things, and knew the desk I perched on had probably cost more than my entire shop. Morgan Slade seemed like more than a successful businessman. Judging by what I’d seen, he probably had even more money than sweet old Mrs. Waddle.

  “So, this is how the warden lives?”

  His gaze shifted from my legs to my face. One dark brow lifted in surprise. “Who told you?”

  “I figured it out on my own. But I happened to overhear a conversation a few minutes ago that proved to be rather eye opening. Am I in danger, Morgan? What else are you hiding from me?”

  A muscle worked in his cheek as he fought for control. “What did you hear?”

  I shook my head. “That’s not how we’re going to play this game. Someone said I was in danger. Should I be worried?”

  He shot me an angry look. “I would never let any harm come to you. I promise.”

  I laughed. “Oh. That’s funny. The promise of a liar.”

  “I haven’t lied to you.”

  “You told me you were refugees.”

  Morgan leaned back in chair, his hands clasped in his lap. “We’re stranded here. Doesn’t that make us refugees?”

  “Not really.”

  He sighed. “Let me think of a better way to explain this to you. Did you ever learn about the history of Australia in school?”

  I gave him a blank look. I knew Australia was a continent with kangaroos, koalas, and nice beaches. That compromised the full extent of my knowledge.

  He rolled his eyes and continued. “Australia began as a penal colony. England shipped prisoners there due to overcrowded jails. They were the first settlers, the founders of that country. We have the same sort of relocation program in Merdonia. Prison Earth is our Australia.”

  “Prison Earth? And how did you become their warden?”

  “My father, Charles, was the original warden. I took his place when he died.”

  “How did my mother end up here? Was she a prisoner, too?”

  He blew out a long breath. “No. She should never have been on our ship.”

  “Then why was she?”

  “Because of your father.”

  “My father?”

  “Yes.” He paused, as if weighing best how to explain everything to me. “I told you Channellers should not intermarry. They’d only been married a few months when Callista found out Bernard had been cheating on her. She confronted him and threatened to leave him. In a fit of rage, he beat her, nearly killing her in the process. He stowed her aboard the prison barge, probably hoping she’d die before anyone found her. He wasn’t so lucky. Someone did find her…Me.”

  “You found her?”

  He nodded. “I was just a small boy at the time, playing in the hold. I saw her in the corner, barely breathing. My mother nursed her back to health, but it took a long time before we found out who and what she was.”

  “You didn’t know she was a Channeller?”

  He shook his head. “She was too weak. We had no idea. And we also didn’t know she was pregnant, although we figured that out eventually. Unfortunately, one of the ship’s officers recognized her. You come from a rather famous family on Merdonia. Without telling any of us, the officer contacted Bernard. A huge mistake.”

  “What did Bernard do?”

  “He hired the Hunters to find us and annihilate every man, woman and child on our ship. He wanted his wife dead, and he didn’t want any witnesses.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “It was. Shortly after we arrived, the Hunters found us and disabled our communication system. Then they attacked. You were only a few months old at the time.” I could feel deep, heavy sorrow surround him like a thick fog. “The first attack was gruesome. My mother died that day. I was four years old.”

  Finally, a chink in his impenetrable armor. “I’m sorry.”

  “If it weren’t for Callista, we would have all died. She used her Channeller abilities to defeat the Hunters, but at great personal cost.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Hunters are mercenaries, out for a profit. When they realized we had a Channeller with us, they decided it would be far more advantageous to keep her alive and sell her on the black market. They backed out of their deal with Bernard, and Callista became their new target.”

  “How did you find that out?”

  “A little torture goes a long way. Even Hunters have their weaknesses.”

  “Lovely.”

  “It put you in danger, too. Although you were tiny, you already displayed significant abilities. Callista tried to keep it a secret, to keep you a secret, but I knew. You used to zap me with your tiny fingers whenever I played with you.”

  The idea of Morgan playing with me as a baby almost made me forgive him for being such a jerk. “I must have been adorable.”

  He smiled at the memory conjured in his mind. “You were.”

  “How were you able to hide from
the Hunters for so long?”

  “Your mother, in addition to being a Channeller, was also an accomplished chemist. She figured out that the Hunters had a weakness. Iron. It was toxic to them. They could only be around it for short periods of time before becoming deathly ill. She convinced my father to move us to an abandoned steel warehouse in Pittsburgh.”

  “The Iron City.”

  “Yes. A brilliant plan. The Hunters could only stand short periods of exposure to all the iron dust in the air and in the soil. The perfect solution to our problems.”

  “So what went wrong?”

  “Right after we reached Pittsburgh, you disappeared.” He shook his head sadly. “We all assumed the worst. Poor Callista.”

  For a second I caught a glimpse of something close to real affection in his eyes. “You loved her.”

  He nodded. “She…treated me well. She helped care for me after my own mother died.”

  A lump formed in my throat. “I’m glad she had you.”

  His hair was mussed. My fingers longed to fix it. A rumpled Morgan Slade appealed to me even more than the perfectly polished version. It made him seem more…human, somehow.

  “How did I end up with Muriel?”

  He rubbed his jaw. “I have no idea. Before my father died, he told me I had to find Callista’s baby. He was quite ill, so I just concluded he felt guilty about how you’d been taken. I never even mentioned it to Callista. I didn’t want to upset her. She’d already been through so much.”

  “What happened to her, Morgan? How did she die?”

  He let out a heavy sigh. “The Hunters found her. She went out one day with some Nils. Strictly forbidden, of course, but Callista had never been one to follow the rules. When the Hunters attacked, she sacrificed herself.” He shook his head in disbelief. “She died…to save them. A bunch of Nils. In the whole history of our people, a Channeller has never done such a thing. It made her a hero to every Nil in our colony, and most of the Neutralizers, too. But, it changed everything. Until we found you, we thought all hope was lost.”

  “Why?”

  “We could build a portal, but had no Channeller to open it. Then you came and suddenly everything seemed so…possible. Is there any way you would still consider helping us, Lola? We don’t deserve it, but we need you. Desperately.” He let out a long breath. “I need you.”