by K H Lemoyne
Her response shocked her. The fear, the repugnance of intimate contact with a total stranger, a caged and potentially dangerous stranger, didn’t surface to stop her. Her body imposed its own will over the logic of her mind. Vibrating with need, she pressed against him, thoughts of demonic creatures and torture far away. Darkness, cold, and fear were, for a second, quelled.
He gently pulled back and shifted them both to sit, not releasing his arm from around her back. The rattle of chains injected reality. “They must not find you here. You made it out before. You need to do so again.”
Again? “How did you know it was me before?”
He reached into the pocket of his tattered jeans and slid a tiny, hard object into the palm of her hand.
Her earring.
With a shock, she realized the last-ditch effort he made in the corridor last night, the insane stumble, and attack of the hybrids, had been to pick up her earring, to cover for her.
“My smell and hearing are also excellent.”
Her fingers closed over the earring and she glanced at him, wishing she could make out more of his expression. The modest growth of beard and the dark gray shadows around his eyes hid everything.
He watched her, his thoughts closed off behind an apparent mask of calm. One she no longer believed as rigid and harsh as she had before.
And he could smell her. A heated flush rushed over her skin at the embarrassment.
With effort, she circled back to the conversation the creature’s arrival had interrupted. “Why are you helping me? The first time, you almost took my head off.”
His shoulders moved in a shrug. “You are not the threat I anticipated when you first appeared in my cell.”
The response sounded synonymous with weak and inconsequential, and while her first instinct was to snap back, she paused long enough to realize it wasn’t wise or kind to antagonize him. “You’re so certain because…?”
“Because you’re human.” Humor threaded through his words. “Would you prefer to be a threat?”
“No. I mean, well—I’m as human as you are.” Wasn’t she? She leaned back against the wall, choosing more distance from his appeal to give her mind some clarity.
Silence thickened again in the cell, broken by the scrape of plastic on stone and the snap of the cap. Several minutes later, he placed the empty water bottle in her lap. “Thank you.”
“Glad to be of service,” she said, the sarcasm barely contained at becoming his personal garbage can.
He dropped his head and then tilted a look her direction. She could detect a lift at the corner of his mouth, a brief hint of amusement. “If you leave that here, others will know you’ve been here.”
Yeah, bad. “Good point.”
The man had a tight grasp of the dangers. Something she wasn’t coming up to speed on fast enough. Given she wasn’t able to control her journey here she should follow his lead. Mia gripped the empty bottle. If she could help it, she wouldn’t come back. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“No, I did not.”
She didn’t see the smile, though his voice relaxed into their previous battle of words.
“What is your name?” he asked. The soft gravel of his voice deepened. It rumbled against her, leaving a ghost impression of his body pressed to hers.
She crossed her arms to rub away the sensation. Sensual or not, there was too much sensory stimulus keeping her off-kilter with not enough substantive information being exchanged. Her name was the last thing she was comfortable sharing. “If you doubted me at first, what clued you in I’m human?”
“Your scent. Your blood.”
It circled back to the blood, she thought with a quick shake of her head.
“You asked,” he responded with a quiet laugh.
He wasn’t sane; well-built and a great kisser, but certifiable. Maybe not even real, except she’d endured the hybrids twice in the last two nights, and she was certain she carried the blood from his wounds all over her clothes, evidence impossible to discount.
“You sucked my blood for an analysis? Like some sort of—”
“I sucked your finger to cover your scent from the hybrid. It also allowed me to assess you. And”—he tugged her hand back into the light of the door—“it seems to have helped close your wound.”
Her bloodless finger remained between the fingers of his much larger hand. “Thank you, but that’s so gross. I’d think tasting blood would be a hazardous way to test for enemies. Infections and everything,” she whispered, not able to keep the tension and curiosity from her voice, in spite of herself.
“The risk with you was minimal. Your scent carried no threat.” He gave a deeper chuckle at the intake of her breath. “It’s unique, light, and harmless.” He held up his hands in mock surrender as she narrowed her eyes at him. “You have the capacity to be very threatening, I’m sure. But you are a bit too delicious to have caused me harm.”
She shivered, heat building inside her again at the erotic images his words evoked. Truly disturbing that he could create such havoc inside her with only his words.
“You have a lot of experience assessing human women?” The waspish comment snaked out of her mouth before she could pull it back. Her response was to her body’s betrayal more than irritation with him. The allusion to delicious had caused the trigger. Some trickle of emotion inside her wanted his response to her to be special and singular, but that was, of course, ridiculous. Yet her flicker of annoyance at him made her bite her lip to stymie another retort. Of course, he’d had his share of experiences. What did she care?
“I wasn’t born in this cell.” He looked away and waited for several moments. “Evil and threat, they both have detectable characteristics without blood.”
“Why tell me all this?”
He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. “Because I regret adding to your fear.”
She played with the bottle in her hands, uneasy with her feelings and uncertain how to proceed in a way that wouldn’t extract more of her uncensored responses. “No regret for the blood thing?”
“There was no harm to you, and it served a useful purpose.”
“What kind of barn did you grow up in where it’s acceptable to ‘get to know someone’ by tasting blood?” Damn, she needed to keep her mouth shut.
“No barn. My people don’t taste blood. Taste is an enhanced sense. It’s no different than touch, smell, hearing, or intuition.” He reached out and patted her leg as if to clear her concern.
“Perhaps. Though I don’t jump right into touch, smell, and taste when I first meet someone. There’s the whole personal space issue.”
He chuckled again, the sound unexpectedly addicting.
“Personal space wasn’t an option with the creatures so close. I’ll make no apologies for using whatever options I had available. While you may not appreciate knowing, in an offer of honest disclosure, I’ll tell you I can also detect your emotions from your scent.”
Probably her fear of the creature or, more embarrassing, the attraction she’d experienced. Mia’s stomach sank to the floor. “Not very reassuring, since I don’t have any secret skills to analyze you.”
“Are you sure?” His tone took a hard, serious turn. “I didn’t tell you to reassure you.”
“Then why? To scare me because I’m human and you think you’re not?” She shook her head. “This could all be a figment of my imagination.”
“My intent was honesty, not fear, brutal as it may be. If all of this were your imagination, then you’d be most unusual, and harboring secret skills might indeed be an option.”
She ignored him. “I like the dream scenario. Then I can exercise my will and change the circumstances. I can make you tell me what you are.”
He shook his head. “I’m not at liberty to discuss my people with you, dream or not. The threat would be to you, not to me.”
“If your people are so special, then what are you doing here?”
He leaned back against the
wall, and Mia wondered if she’d pushed too far.
“I think we’ve already touched on that earlier.”
“Yes, your…dead friend.” Whatever his goal here was, the result hadn’t worked out so well. Mia pulled her knees to her chest and rested her arms on them to watch him. Her curiosity increased about a female friend who had accidentally caused imprisonment and torture. More important, what could they be involved in to justify this risk? It implied something more dangerous than his predicament. “What did she hope to gain from this? Or was her desire to help totally selfless?”
He released a harsh breath and shifted. “She hoped to elicit my compliance to her wishes.”
“What wishes?” His reluctance to tell her outright and the sad change in tone triggered an odd, uncomfortable sensation in her gut.
His hands opened, seeking some answer before him, and then curled into fists on his knees. “She wanted me to take her as my mate.”
Mate? This woman wanted commitment and sex and had paid for it by arranging a meeting. Ideas streamed through Mia’s mind, none of them good. “Like marriage? A little hard to achieve with you here and her dead.”
“She was naïve. Too intent on her goals to realize her actions to contact Xavier would end in this fashion.”
The words sank in as she glanced around the stone cell and tried to decipher the deep sadness in his words. The woman’s need to ply him with favors indicated his reluctance to meet her wishes. His sadness and guilt implied the woman had meant a great deal to him. A shift one way or the other still offered Mia no grip on the situation. “This, in all its glory, belongs to Xavier? Does he fall in the “your people” category or mine?”
After a quick rub of his face, he hung his head. “Xavier was someone I respected. I called him friend.”
Was. “You need help picking your friends.” At his sigh of annoyance, she briefly considered backing off. Unfortunately, she gained more information when she pushed him, no matter how much her conscience rebelled at stripping him raw. “Did Xavier kill your mate?”
“I don’t believe Xavier killed her, and Isa wasn’t my mate.”
The name dropped between them like a stone. Mia felt sick. Names made things real. Now the kiss he had given made the moisture in her mouth turn to dust. “I’m sorry.”
“She was a vibrant, vital being with much to offer, and I deeply regret she is gone.”
The woman sounded angelic from his description, even though she’d bartered for his attention and hosed them both royally. “Then why wasn’t she enough for you?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Sounds a little dismissive.” Not that it was any of her business. Their relationship wasn’t going to solve her nighttime travels, but she couldn’t stop.
“I respected her as I do all of my people, but mating for us isn’t like marriage for humans. Our mates are our only partner in life. We don’t just try them on for size and discard them.”
He spit the words out. Confirmation that she wasn’t the only one pushed to speak without thought. She’d hit a sore spot. He’d struck back at her, and it hurt. “Kind of judgmental, don’t you think?”
He was silent for a few minutes. He turned his head with his arms crossed over his chest, the chains fading into the shadows at his side. She mulled over his words, stinging from the hit too close to home. She’d poked and pried into his personal business when it was none of hers. Grudgingly, she admitted she wouldn’t have been pleased if put on the spot about her marriage. Now was a good time to end her questions.
“Isa desired her own ends. She pursued them at her own cost. But I would have traded places with her to spare her death or pain.”
A gracious man. Mia was certain she wouldn’t have taken her husband’s place to save him, had the opportunity arisen. She wouldn’t have pushed him into jeopardy, but given his recent actions she’d have walked away and let him rot. “I was wrong to provoke you.”
“Don’t apologize.” He shook his head. “I’ve had nothing but time here to think back on how I could have changed these events.”
The little insight he’d given her suddenly provoked a nasty suspicion. “Did Xavier make those creatures?”
He shrugged.
She noted his silence, but the questions spun too quickly in her mind now to stop. “If he has the skills to create them and he’s your friend, one of your people, then what skills do you have? What the hell are you doing here?”
“I have neither the desire nor the knowledge to create those hybrids. It is against all my people believe in.”
The gaps in his responses spoke louder than the words. Mia pressed on. “But you have abilities, too?”
“What I do have is blocked here in this pit by these.” He lifted his manacled hands.
That didn’t make sense. “The chains squelch your superpowers? He holds you with metal?” It sounded insolent even to her ears, yet maybe he really was crazy.
She would give him the benefit of the doubt, if only because he’d saved her life, twice. He thought well on his feet, operated without fear, and she could attest to his strength. If Xavier could create Frankenstein creatures, surely this man could figure a way out of this hellhole without restriction from a little bit of metal. “Maybe those cuffs aren’t a limitation.”
“Normal metal, no. This composite material hasn’t been discovered yet by your people.” A bitter edge grated in his words. “It reduces my speed to heal, binds my skills, and shuts off communication from my own people. Who, in all likelihood, believe I am dead.”
“So your people can die?”
“We are not intended to live forever.” He glanced away. “We live a long time, infinitely longer if we remain unmated. We do eventually go on to our Maker.”
“Your Maker?”
“Is the same as yours.”
He held her gaze across the dark space.
“So God made the heavens and the earth, and on the side he made your people. With all your superpowers, so you could what, dominate?”
“You are very intent on judging my life based on a minuscule dissection of personal information.”
She opened her mouth to apologize, but his raised palm and shake of his head stopped her.
“My people don’t exist to dominate. We share a similar physiology with humans. We share the same basic needs and desires for family and hope. We are not so different.”
Definitely close enough to human. She swallowed hard. His mouth, his body, had all the right parts to rival any human male she’d ever known, perhaps the reason for the intensity of her reactions. If she believed him.
She stifled the thought and focused. He was holding information back, a lot of information, if she read him correctly. Based on his recent actions, he was probably withholding to safeguard her. If that wasn’t the definition of dominant, she didn’t know what was. He shared that trait with human males. It didn’t qualify him as a different species.
He nudged her foot with his. “Is it so hard to believe other sentient beings exist?”
“I’ve never run into them. I never expected them to appear human.” She hung her head and tapped her fingers together while she mulled over what he had said. “So what came first, the chicken or the egg?”
At his confusion, she shook her head. “Which species came first? Yours or mine?”
“Ahh.” His foot withdrew. “Would it be acceptable to save something for another time?”
With a sigh, she leaned back against her wall and gave up. He deserved a cease-fire. She hoped there wouldn’t be another time, though she’d bet money she’d see him again. The very reason she’d pressed him like she was on deadline and he was her only point of contact for the story of the century. A bit rude and unworthy, given all he’d done for her.
“Okay, tabling the questions. Since you’ve used your superpowers to analyze my blood to figure out I’m a lowly human with zero threat value, where does that leave us?”
“I don’t consider anyone to be no
threat. You’ve found a way to come and leave from here, which I can’t do.” He raised the manacles again. “So lowly, never. I’d prefer you not come back. Keep far from here and safe. Consider me a bad dream, if that works for you.”
Yep, domineering. That earned him one last question. “Would your people consider humans to be less developed?”
“I have been jailed and tortured for weeks, so I can’t speak to what my people think right now.”
Mia bit her lip. Her people skills had eroded miserably during this nightmare. She used to be good at interviews. The personal risk here kept throwing her off. She wasn’t nice, much less tactful, with her responses too quick. An avoidance response, not defensiveness; she knew herself that well. She didn’t want empty airspace with this man. She didn’t want to answer his questions, and she wasn’t ready for the way he took control.
“It’d be best for both of us if no one knew we’d spoken of these things,” he said.
She nodded. It was little enough to offer him. Who would believe her? She couldn’t wrap her head around everything he’d told her yet anyway. It would all take time to digest. Though it was discomforting, he sat tortured yet calm and she could only muster cranky and weary. Her social skills needed work.
“Mia.” A small enough olive branch. “My name is Mia.”
His hand stilled on his knee, the only acknowledgement he’d heard her, though his gaze bore into her again. Was one of his superpowers the ability to suck the thoughts from her head? Probably not, though his kiss had the power to suck common sense from her brain.
“What do you do, Mia?” Her name whispered from his lips sent another tingle down her spine. “Do you have family, friends, coworkers who will miss you if you do not return?”
“I’m sure you didn’t mean that to sound threatening.” Her voice was crisper than she’d intended, though not from any threat—more from the need to suppress the guards she dropped so easily around this man. This situation, dream or real, was too personal and afforded her no control. Her life now, especially interactions with this man, had spiraled out of control.
