“Edge! Get over here.” Edge, one of my men, appears by my side.
“What is it, Sabin?”
I look up from the complink, and he stares at me. His eyes—deep brown with bright streaks of citron—have a way of unsettling me sometimes. I don’t let him know that, of course, but Edge is different from the rest. He’s rough, his movements are always purposeful, and he doesn’t let anything stop him from speaking his mind, even when it means taking heat from the others. At the same time his rash actions remind me of an adolescent. I give him a hard time about it because he needs to learn how to manage his thoughts and use them to his advantage, as opposed to blurting out the first thing that pops into his mind. But I also don’t want to curb his creativity. His mind works at light speed sometimes, coming up with amazing ideas and brilliant strategies. His name suits him well because sometimes his mouth has him living on the edge.
I would never admit this to anyone, but out of all The Seven, other than Rafe, Edge is my favorite. As commander of The Seven, one should never have favorites. But he reminds me of myself when I was younger—when life hadn’t fucked with me so much.
“Gear up, everyone. We’re heading back to Earth. To Beaufort, South Carolina. The Shaurok found Judgment Day and the girl who possesses it. Verus and Andros are setting up headquarters for us in a warehouse they found.”
“Are you fucking with me?” he asks.
“Edge, have I ever fucked with you?”
He lifts a brow and the corresponding corner of his mouth. “Maybe a time or two?”
“Never. Get your ass ready. We leave in ten.”
His head jerks and he’s gone. But he’s right. I fuck with him on a daily basis.
~~~~~
Beaufort, South Carolina is a small town on the coast, and it’s quite quaint. Verus and Andros have us headquartered in some warehouse on the outskirts of town.
“You do realize there’s a huge U.S. Marine Corps base near here?” I ask Verus.
“Yeah. But it’s a recruit depot where the poor fuckers go for boot camp, so we won’t be seeing any sign of them.”
“Good,” I say. “The last thing we need is the U.S. Military breathing down our backs.”
“Exactly what I thought when I realized where we’d be. But no worries.”
“Don’t even use that phrase until Judgment Day is safe and sound.”
“Right, boss.”
I take a glance around at our new temporary base. Verus and Andros have done a great job in finding us this warehouse on such short notice. The men have been working hard to get it outfitted.
“Give me a run down.”
He fills me in on Serena Callahan. She’s a diver. Great. A marine biologist who is working on her Ph.D., apparently. Why can’t she be a school teacher or a secretary? But no. We get a goddamn marine biologist who likes to play underwater where she can’t fucking breathe. Why not make our job just a little more difficult? Bloody hell.
“She’s leaving, from what our surveillance tells us, in a few weeks.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic. Where’s she headed?”
Verus shakes his head. “You’re gonna love this.”
“I’m not sure I even want to know.”
“The Virgin Islands, and then back to Duke. In Durham, North Carolina.”
“Are you fucking with me?” Edge starts laughing until I kill it with a glance.
“Not even a bit. Apparently, she’s been down there several times with a group from her university. They’re doing studies on sea life or some shit. That must have been when she found Judgment Day—when Juliette threw it off the boat.”
Is this even happening? The last time we went there, it was a shit show of epic proportions. I’m not sure I want to hear this.
“That explains why the damn thing keeps bouncing around all over the place. Do you have her departure date yet?”
“Yes,” Verus answers.
“Do you have the place where she is staying?”
“Yes.”
“Then we need to have someone in place by the time she arrives. We have no room for errors on this.”
Verus nods. “We also have another problem. We believe we know another reason why we’ve had so much trouble tracking Judgment Day.”
“Please. The suspense is killing me,” I say dryly.
Verus looks away from his screen. “You’re not gonna like this one either.”
“Verus, is there anything you’re going to tell me today that I am going to like?”
“Nope.”
“Then stop dragging this shit out and fucking say it.” My patience is wearing thin.
Verus lets out a long breath. “She’s definitely allowing her friends to wear Judgment Day.”
“Fuck it all!”
“Told you you weren’t gonna like it.”
“So, our suspicions were right.”
My feet, of their own volition, begin to move. They take me to the end of the building and back to where Verus stands. I look him in the eye and turn around, repeating my steps. My body hums with pent up energy that needs to be dispelled. Problem is, I don’t dare break anything in here, or else it’ll need replacing.
“Goddammit. Why the fuck would she do that?”
“Beats the hell out of me,” Verus says.
Edge walks up to us and says, “I know why.”
Right now I want to wrap my fingers around his neck and squeeze. Instead, I grit my teeth and say, “Enlighten us, genius.”
With a youthful exuberance, he says, “It’s because she’s a woman.”
I give my head a solid shake and count to three. “Would you care to repeat that? And before you do, just to be clear, I don’t need any moronic answers here, Edge.”
“No, I get it. My sister is always sharing her shit. They lend it out to each other. My old girlfriend used to do it all the time. You two obviously don’t know much about women or you’d know that.”
I would sincerely love to throttle the shit out of him, but what he says makes sense. I’m not going to get into the girlfriend shit. “So, they what? Give all their shit to their friends and let them use it?”
“Oh, yeah. And then it makes them look like they have ten times as much stuff as they do.”
“That’s ridiculous. Why do they want to do that?”
Edge shrugs. “Beats the hell out of me. They just do. Why do women do half the shit they do? They’re weird. That’s why.”
And who can argue with that?
“Okay, so she’s been letting her friend wear this—what she thinks is just a necklace, right?” They nod. “How many friends?”
“No idea on the exact number, but we do know at least two others.”
My neck instantly screams in pain as the muscles tense and cramp. Fuck! Why can’t women be more like men and not really give a damn about their clothes? Who the hell needs necklaces, anyway?
“What I thought might be a shit show in the Caribbean has just multiplied here. Exponentially. We’re totally fucked. How the hell are we going to deal with this?”
“How long does someone have to wear Judgment Day before it imprints on them?” Edge asks.
“It’s always been my understanding that the imprinting is immediate.”
“So anyone who has borrowed the thing could be imprinted?”
“Correct.”
“This is going to be a fuck show,” Edge says.
My brows meet my hairline.
“What?” Edge asks.
“I think it’s a shit show. A fuck show would imply pornography and last time I checked, the Shaurok wouldn’t know what a pussy was if you threw one at them.”
Edge snorts with laughter, but stops when he notices I haven’t joined in.
“This is anything but humorous, and I would ask you to try to keep your focus here, little one.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Once the Shaurok figure it out, they’ll be going after all those women. And then they’ll be pissed as hell when they can�
�t find it,” Andros says. “The incident underwater yesterday was bad enough.”
I clear my throat and Andros twitches. “Care to fill me in on that?” I ask.
“Uh, yeah, I was getting to that.”
When he tells me, I’m livid. So much so, I don’t say a word. Not for a long time. My mind reels with the possibilities of how she could’ve died down there—how easy it would’ve been. And I wonder if she even was wearing Judgment Day at the time.
“So, what you’re telling me is the Shaurok found her underwater, but you got to her in the nick of time? And then what happened after you got rid of the Shaurok?” I finally ask.
“Yeah, that was almost another mess. We had to get her up to her boat without her diving companions noticing. The currents were rough and one of the divers was pushed away from the others. We sort of had to do a little mind bending on her as well.”
“Excellent, positively excellent.”
“We had no choice, Sabin,” Andros says.
“I’m sure you didn’t. Continue.”
“We got her up and revived her without issue. Even fixed her equipment, but then her team realized she’d been missing and surfaced, too. So we had to scatter. Her injuries weren’t severe, but we didn’t have time to get rid of all her bruising.”
“Was it bad?”
“Yeah, pretty much. We hung around for a while and when she took off her suit, they were all astonished. They didn’t believe her at first. She said something knocked into her down there. She knows it was no shark or your standard every day sea life. Sabin, you’re gonna have to talk to her.”
“Me? Why the hell does it have to be me?”
Andros is always straightforward, never avoiding anything unless there is trouble.
“Spit it out, Andros. You’ve already told me the worst, right?”
“Not exactly.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Now I’m getting flashes of mental images I don’t like. “Okay, maybe I’ll do a mind invasion on her and leave behind a suggestion.”
Andros’ mouth lengthens into one thin line. “It’s going to have to be a bit more significant than that.”
“Explain.” My voice is terse. I really want to strike something. The hold on my temper is ultra thin right now.
“I tried and it didn’t take,” Andros says.
“The fuck! What is it with these women lately? Why can’t we run across the every day, easy to deal with types?”
“I don’t know. Just be prepared. I’m giving you fair warning. I did my usual and nothing happened. That’s why we didn’t have time to get rid of her bruising. Oh, and one other thing, she wasn’t wearing it.”
This day is really going down the drain fast. Judgment Day. Who was the genius behind this piece of nasty business anyway? It’s so ancient I’m not sure anyone even knows anymore. Oh, maybe somewhere, someone could figure it out, if they wanted to go through the damn trouble. But for all the heartache it’s caused so many people throughout time, I’d like to get my hands on those sons of bitches. I’d kill every last one of them. Judgment Day and Paradox—I think about the price we’ve paid for their arrogant aspirations to rule the universe and control everything. And look where it’s gotten us. It created a race of creatures controlled by someone hell bent on nothing but seeking it out and destroying anything in its path. My team’s duty is to prevent that at all cost. Maybe, just maybe if they had stopped and thought about what a shitastrophe they were creating, they wouldn’t have done it. Probably not. I’m sure their heads were way too far up their asses to see the light of day by that time.
Later that night, I find myself in Serena Callahan’s tiny apartment. She’s away with a friend, I assume, so I make a quick inspection of the place. It’s sparsely furnished with a bed, dresser, couch, coffee table, dinette, two chairs, a small bookshelf that holds a shit ton of textbooks on marine life, and a computer. Inside her closet I find a few pairs of shoes, her SCUBA equipment, and some clothing. That’s it. Serena doesn’t own a lot of things. As I’m walking out of her bedroom, on her dresser I notice some kind of contraption where a bunch of necklaces hang. Judgment Day is not among them.
Not knowing how long she’ll be gone, I plop my ass on her couch, fade into the background, and wait. Thankfully, I don’t have to wait too long. Voices get louder and then I hear her key in the lock.
“Thanks, Greg. I’ll talk to you next week. I hope to make that dive.”
She shuts the door and locks it behind her. I hope this Greg dude isn’t her boyfriend. It’ll make it a lot easier if she doesn’t have one. I notice how she favors her left side. That must be where the Shaurok got her. She walks by me, then backs up, and sniffs the air. Great. Perfect. Juliette could see us, and this one can smell me. What the hell is it with these women?
Satisfied that my scent isn’t anything unpleasant, she moves on to her bedroom. I can still hear her sniffing the air, like some bloodhound. She must be changing her clothes, because I hear the sound of a zipper but then I’m surprised to see her walk out the bedroom in her panties and bra. The first things I notice are her bruises. Large purple and red marks cover her from her breasts to her hips. She grabs her purse and digs into it, coming up with a bottle of ibuprofen. Then she slowly walks to the kitchen where she fills up a glass with water so she can swallow the pills.
While she does this, I head into her bedroom. My guess is she’s going to bed. A couple of minutes later, I hear her brushing her teeth, and later the toilet flushing.
When she walks in the room, her bra is in her hand and I want to stare at her forever. Her body is perfection. She’s tall and curvy, not skin and bones like so many women are, and her breasts are the exact size I love. Not huge and not small. Unfortunately, she hides all that perfection underneath a T-shirt so I’m forced to raise my gaze to her face. And now I’m awestruck. Serena Callahan is magnificent. Thick dark lashes fringe deep green eyes that are the color of the stormy sea. Rich mahogany waves that my fingers rub together itching to touch, frame a face that is permanently etched in my mind. Her skin is so flawless, it takes every ounce of my control to keep my hands at my sides. And don’t even get me started on her lips. I find myself taking a step forward, before I rein myself in. And that’s when her scent plows into me. Fuck me dead.
Then she sniffs the air again and walks toward me. While I appear to be transparent, I’m still solid, and if she keeps moving, she’s going to bump right into me. As I was busy ogling all the hotness that is Serena, I’ve backed myself into a corner and now have nowhere to go. Great job, Sabin! What a brilliant dumbass you are.
And bam, it happens. Her hands land on my chest, then my shoulders, and finally my head, immediately before she screams. I spin her around, clamp my hand over her mouth and say, “I’m not here to hurt you, only to help. I swear it. You must believe me.” I attempt to bend her mind, to do an invasion, but it’s as Andros described. It has zero effect.
She pants now. Her breath heats my hand as it’s forced through her nostrils. I hate that she’s frightened of me. So I bring myself into view, and turn her around, allowing her to see me. As soon as she does, her fist connects with my jaw. Didn’t expect that at all. Then she screams again.
My hand resumes its position over her mouth. “Look, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. I would much prefer the easy. I’m not here to hurt you in any way. I swear it. If I were, you’d be long dead by now. I’m far bigger and much stronger than you.”
A lot of good that does me. She kicks me in the shin and squirms enough out of my grip so I have to block a knee to the groin. “Behave, will you? I can tie you up if you want.” I spin her around again, this time with her hands locked in one of mine. “Do you want me to gag you?”
She shakes her head back and forth.
“Will you behave and not scream?”
Now she gives me the up and down sign. I release her again.
“H-how did you do that? Make yourself disappear? Do you have an invisibilit
y cloak?”
Bloody hell. It’s the Harry Potter thing every time. If I only had a dollar. “Something like that. But I am here to protect you. Do you believe me?” She doesn’t. Not in the least. She doesn’t nod, speak, does nothing at all. So I plunge in deeper. Well, not that kind of plunge, though I would like to. “Yesterday, when you were SCUBA diving, you were attacked, yes?”
She nods her head vigorously.
“Not by sharks either, but by men. Their eyes were strange looking, weren’t they?”
She nods again. Her eyes have grown huge and I’m hoping they don’t bust out of her head.
“Their irises were white but red-rimmed with red pupils, weren’t they?”
“Yes!”
She speaks! “You didn’t imagine them, Serena.”
“How do you know my name?”
“I know a lot of things, Serena Callahan.”
And I know this will be the next thing—she’s going to think I’m some kind of government agent.
“Are you with the government?”
“In a manner of speaking.” I am, but not hers.
“Have I done something wrong?”
“Can we sit?” I gesture toward her bed.
She sniffs again and asks, “What is that smell?”
“I don’t smell anything.” I have to lie. I do smell something. Her. And it’s luscious. Like ripe strawberries. So good I want to lay her down and lick her, then fuck her. But I can’t tell her that. And she doesn’t smell that, she smells me. Which is not good.
Sniff, sniff. “No, it smells really good.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, like potpourri. I love that smell. My mom used to have that stuff all over the house. It’s the one thing … oh, never mind.”
What man wants to smell like potpourri? Fuck.
“Hmm. Don’t smell a thing here. So, can you tell me about what happened yesterday?”
I specifically want to know if she remembers anything about my men. She doesn’t. It’s all a haze. She does remember the Shaurok.
Sabin, A Seven Novel Page 4
