The Aeon Star

by Hart, Lauren T.

  She was more than justified in killing Embry. And all she had to do was squeeze the trigger...

  "No." Don't kill him. Paul's thoughts echoed through her head. It wasn't that Paul didn't want him dead — he did. He wanted it as much as she did, but there was more. He wanted information; information that only Embry had.

  Others were at the stairs now. It was time to go. She dropped the gun and fled toward Paul. Her vision became a blur, her awareness pulled itself in, she gasped and the next moment she found herself lying on the ground with Paul's arm around her.

  "Drop your weapon, and put your hands on your head!" a woman in a blue uniform yelled from the doorway, there were others behind her. "Do it! Now!"

  Embry dropped his gun but kept his hand clutched to his side. Two blue uniforms grabbed hold of him, locking him in cuffs and shouting orders about a medic.

  The woman who'd been in the lead hurried over to them, her gun held low in front of her. "Are you two okay?"

  "Angela—" Paul said. "This is Genevieve Auberon, she's a priority one-seven client and we've got to go."

  The moment was too surreal for Genevieve to fully comprehend what was happening. How did Paul know who she was? And how long had he known?

  "You want a medic first?"

  "No. I've got my own."

  "Okay," Angela put her hand out to him and helped him up. "Do you need a car?"

  "No," Paul said, helping Genevieve to her feet.

  "I need an escort." Angela shouted. Another armed guard in blue hurried over.

  Paul wrapped himself around Genevieve, the other two flanked them with their guns at the ready and escorted them to Paul's car.

  "Angela, one more thing," Paul leaned close to the uniformed woman. "This one needs to be handled in-house. If he lives, he's mine."

  Angela nodded. "On their way," she yelled.

  Genevieve waited until they were well away from Royal Crown Securities and Paul's breathing had slowed enough to convince her that they were no longer in any immediate danger before she asked, "Where are we going?"

  "Some place safe."

  She pulled the sleeve of Nick's hoodie down, rolled the end and pressed the combined layers against Paul's shoulder to stem the bleeding. "And then what?"

  "And then, we'll figure it out. All that matters is that you're safe."

  Quincy had said something similar, she remembered.

  "Do you know who I am, Paul?"

  "I do now, Princess."

  "Please don't call me that," she shuddered.

  "What would you prefer that I call you?"

  "Not that."

  "Genevieve? May I ask you something?"

  "Do you know my whole name?" she asked.

  "Uh, yes."

  "Say it, the whole thing."

  He hesitated, "Uh... Genevieve Evangeline Auberon, the Aeon Princess."

  The Aeon Princess? A shiver of recognition crept through her, seeming to originate from a familiar spot on her back. Princess? Is that what made her so important? Is that why they hunted her? It was too much for her to think about right now; she shoved the thought from her mind. "What's your question?"

  "It's about Nick."

  He was too much for her think about right now too. "What about him?"

  "He's my friend, Genevieve..."

  "That wasn't a question, Paul."

  "I just—" he exhaled hard. "I know he had Xavier's key. I just want to know if he's all right."

  She thought about how casually Rick Rubin had thought she might have killed Nick. Did Paul think something similar? "What is wrong with you people?" she growled. "I'm not the monster here, Paul," she said, doing a poor job of suppressing her tears.

  "No, no. I know that now," Paul said quickly.

  "What?"

  "No. That came out wrong. Look, I'm sorry, okay? I just... I'm really confused right now."

  He was confused? She wished she were confused! But confused didn't even begin to cover what she felt at the moment. She was too overwhelmed by everything that was happening to her to even think about any of it. Her best option was not to think about it too much and keep her focus on only what was in front of her at the moment.

  "Who are you Paul? Who are you really?"

  "I'm surprised you need to ask," he eyed her.

  "I don't."

  Paul took in a sharp breath of air. Again, there were the sparks of electricity. They were a little disorienting. He was still in a fair amount of pain but it didn't matter. Only she mattered right now. He was worried about her, the Aeon Princess. He felt something like respect for her, love even, but there was fear also... She stopped.

  "Damn it." Paul growled as he exhaled.

  "I'd rather hear it than take it."

  "Fair enough." Paul grimaced, shaking off the effects of her mind trip. It was different for him than it was for others, he knew she was in his head; he could feel her intrusion. "I work for the Xavier family."

  "Are you..." what was the word? "Loyal to them?"

  "My loyalty is to the Aeon," he said quietly.

  The Aeon. She felt a twinge across her back. Paul was loyal to the Aeon and Nick was loyal to the truth... She wasn't exactly sure what it meant but she knew it was better than being loyal to a person, like those who had been loyal to Embry Farold; they were too easy to manipulate. She wondered what she was loyal to.

  Paul's cell phone rang in his pocket.

  "Shit." He fumbled for it with his uninjured arm, while attempting to steer with his knee.

  It stopped ringing as he pulled it from his pocket. "It was Nick," he said.

  Nick.

  He called up a number but didn't hit send. "Listen," he said. "For what it's worth Nick believes he's doing the right thing. His heart is in the right place, and he's in it for the right reasons. His loyalty is to the truth. There are just a few truths he hasn't figured out yet. Like the fact that he's working for the wrong side."

  "How do you know he's on the wrong side? How do you know you're not on the wrong side?"

  "Because I'm on the side that's trying to protect you rather than kill you for what you are," he said.

  Kill her? No. Nick was trying to find a way to kill the Angemon. The hollow faced Hunter. The monstrosity they'd tried to kill 20 years earlier... as an infant... before it was put into hiding.

  Her head felt suddenly light.

  "You okay over there?" Paul asked as they turned into a decidedly residential area.

  She nodded, but it was a lie.

  Paul put the phone on speaker and set it on his leg. It started to slip; she reached for it, and held it up between them.

  "Thanks," he said, as someone answered.

  "One moment." A chill shot through her at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line that sounded exactly like she remembered Xavier sounding. "Go ahead." The voice said after a pause.

  "I'm in route. Nick called, but I missed the call."

  "Hmmm. I don't think things are going as he'd planned. No confession yet, but Gerard and I agree he seems overly concerned by the fact that he has been unsuccessful in trying to reach his girlfriend, I hope she's all right."

  "Yeah. David. She's safe. She's with me."

  David made a noise that sounded like he was both coughing and grunting at the same time. "Well then, maybe I should let him know."

  "No. Don't do that." Paul said quickly. "Shawn Weston is dead and Embry Farold was injured. He's being held for us in-house at RCS."

  "Did you see it happen?"

  "Uh... yeah."

  "Was anyone else injured?"

  "Yeah, but we'll live."

  "Where is she?"

  "David... she's with me."

  There was a pause. "I'm on my way."

  The call ended.

  A few minutes later Paul pulled into the driveway of a cliff-side mansion, a house so large it made Nick's look small. There was something familiar about the house but she couldn't place it. It was almost like déjà vu and yet... there was
something else as well, something more, something stronger, almost like a memory.

  Paul parked in the garage.

  She was pretty sure Paul's adrenaline was starting to wane and his pain was only going to get worse. He was sweating and still bleeding. He stumbled near the door to the house. She reached for him and put his arm around her shoulder.

  It was then that she noticed her own injury. No longer bleeding but still very much a wound.

  "I'll be okay," he insisted. "We need to get you looked at."

  "Pauly!" came a high-pitched squeal from a breathtakingly beautiful blond, human, in a bikini, as they entered the house. She ran toward them, almost skipping.

  "Oh my god! What happened to you? Alicia!" she screamed. "Take him to the kitchen," the blond directed as though Genevieve should know where that was.

  It didn't matter, Paul knew.

  Alicia was equally as breathtaking, human, and bikinied, but her shade of blond, had just a kiss of strawberry in it.

  "Jesus, Amber," Alicia scowled as she entered the kitchen. "I almost spilled my drink. What are you—" and then she saw. "Oh my God! Paul! Go get the med kit," she directed Amber.

  "Help her first," Paul insisted.

  Alicia shot a look at Genevieve.

  "I'm fine. He's got a bullet in his shoulder."

  Alicia eyed them both, unsure who to listen to.

  Not that Genevieve would have allowed anything other than Paul to be treated first. She pulled back the hoodie, exposing her fresh but healing wound. "Just a scratch."

  It was all Alicia needed.

  Amber returned just then with a large first aid kit and splayed it out on the counter.

  Alicia reached immediately for a pair of scissors and the alcohol. She sliced open Paul's sleeve exposing his shoulder. Then went for the bottle of alcohol. "This is probably going to hurt Paul." She bit her lip.

  "Wait." Amber screeched. "There's morphine." She shook the bottle of morphine at Alicia.

  "It doesn't work for him." Alicia sighed.

  "Paul," Genevieve calmed, wondering if he would believe her. "There is no pain."

  Paul's expression alternated between relief and horror as his body relaxed.

  Alicia went right to work. She dumped the alcohol over his shoulder, picked up a pair of long tweezers and went in for the bullet.

  "No." Paul said, aware that he was unaware. "Don't do that. I need my pain. I need to feel."

  "That bullet was meant for me," she said.

  "You don't know that. What about the first one? That one was meant for me."

  "Fine," she took his hand in hers. She didn't know how she knew what to say or even if what she was intending would work but it was worth a shot. "Our bullet, our blood, our pain," she said.

  "Damn it!" Paul shouted, as his pain returned.

  Sharp, stabbing and intense pressure; Genevieve felt it too. Now both of her shoulders hurt. She winced, turning her head away from the action, hoping it would be easier to endure if she couldn't see Alicia's movements. It wasn't.

  "Fuck," Paul said through gritted teeth. "Genevieve, stop it."

  "Paul, shut up and hold still," Alicia demanded.

  "Alicia, stop!" Paul pulled away from her, toward Genevieve. "Genevieve you can't do this, it's mine."

  "Paul!" Alicia shrieked.

  Genevieve shoved herself hard against Paul, pinning him against the wall. "I can do this, Paul," she growled. "I am doing this. Now please, just do as Alicia says."

  "Is that an imperative, Princess?"

  "It can be."

  Paul glared at her.

  Genevieve glared back.

  Alicia seized the opportunity and went for Paul's shoulder again.

  Genevieve kept her eyes on his, doing her best not to show pain in her expression, wanting to read him but honoring the fact that he abhorred the intrusion. Taking half of his pain was an intrusion as well, she could tell. The look on his face told her that much.

  She knew it was his fear of her or his respect for whoever she was or maybe a combination of the two that had compelled him to comply with her. She admired him for that. For being willing to do what she asked rather than giving away his free will to her or pushing her to take it.

  It was an abominable ability — a curse. It was no wonder they feared her. Even the devil didn't affect free will. Not that she was a bad person but she had to wonder, if they knew she had this ability, why on earth had anyone thought that letting her live was a good idea?

  A memory danced at the corners of her mind... something about a ticking time bomb... but she couldn't quite recall it.

  "Got it," Alicia announced.

  Amber was ready with needle and thread, and Alicia was quick as she stitched and bandaged Paul's shoulder.

  "Done," Alicia announced.

  Genevieve released him.

  "Oh my god, Pauly. You are so brave," Amber cooed.

  Chapter 28

  Denial Feels So Good

  "You're next," Alicia said to Genevieve.

  Genevieve pulled her shirt back again to reveal the healing wound, "Honestly, I'm fine."

  Alicia nodded. "Let's get you cleaned up at least." Alicia eyed Amber who was leaning against Paul's uninjured side, walking her fingers across his chest. "Amber, do I need to have Janie take care of Paul?"

  "I can do it," Amber protested.

  "He needs to rest Amber," Alicia was stern.

  Amber nodded.

  "This way," Alicia said to Genevieve.

  Genevieve shot a nervous look at Paul.

  He met her eyes, consoling, then nodded to her.

  Stupid Genevieve. What was she so afraid of? Bikinis? She caught up to Alicia at the edge of the kitchen. "Nice work back there."

  "Thanks," Alicia smiled. "It's good to know I haven't lost my touch."

  Alicia led her up the stairs and down a hallway. She stopped briefly at the first door on the left, knocked then opened the door on two more breathtakingly beautiful women, blond, bikinied and human. One of the women typed at a computer while the other painted her toenails, and watched CNN on a large wall mounted TV.

  The two women gasped when they saw Alicia and Genevieve, probably due to the fact that they were both covered in a fair amount of blood.

  "There's a mess in the kitchen that needs cleaning," Alicia announced. "Probably the garage as well," she sighed. "Janie can you keep an eye on Amber, she's supposed to be taking care of Paul and making sure he gets some rest. Rest," she repeated.

  The one at the computer, Janie, nodded.

  Alicia left the door open and continued down the hallway, Genevieve followed. Alicia led her to a room near the end of the hall that had been decorated primarily in white with accents of pale blue and green. A large four-poster bed piled high with pillows and laced with gauzy netting sat directly in the center of the room. The wall to the right was mirrored floor to ceiling. To the left was a set of double doors that opened to a luxurious bathroom. Floor to ceiling windows lined the far wall, draped in the same gauzy netting as the bed, and large double doors led to a balcony beyond.

  "You'll find clothes in the closet just off the bathroom," she gestured. "I'm going to go get myself cleaned up and then I'll be back. Is there anything you need?"

  Genevieve shook her head.

  "Food, I think. Chocolate maybe, and some fruit."

  Chocolate and fruit sounded perfect right now. How did she do that? Gen wondered, but decided to let Alicia keep her secrets.

  Alicia smiled and left, closing the door behind her.

  Genevieve made her way to the bathroom. If she was going to get blood on anything, she wanted to make sure it was on something she could wipe off. She emptied her pockets onto the bathroom counter. The pass card and pen, a pager, two keys, and a glowing star that dulled to a mere golden star the moment she set it down.

  She slipped off Nick's hoodie — Nick's favorite hoodie — now blood stained, bullet holed, and cut, and laid it on the counter. She stripped o
ff the rest of her clothes and eyed the damage. A three-inch gash, scratched across the left side of her chest, and the exit wound on her shoulder. It hurt, but it was healing. She ran her fingers over her right shoulder, which hurt like a bitch, hosting only half of Paul's pain.

  As she showered, she wondered how long it took normal people to heal. Normal people, she balked, more like — just people. She wasn't a people... she was... she still couldn't accept it, couldn't bring herself to say it.

  She stood naked, in front of a full-length mirror in the closet. She'd been half expecting a closet full of bikinis but it was much closer to a designer boutique.

  She traced her fingers over the silver strand around her neck to the star shaped pendant, remembering Nick's touch, his kiss, his words. He loved her. Or at least, he had at the time. All of that might have changed the moment he discovered the truth about her. Nick was loyal to the truth, and his feelings for her would never change that, he had told Marcus. And the truth was, no matter how much she wanted to deny it, she was the monster that he had been looking for a way to destroy. His words pressed in on her, tore through her heart, and filled her eyes with tears. And yet she still longed for him, still loved him. Something deep within her stirred, and she knew that her fate, her very life, lay in his hands. She forced the thoughts away and dressed.

  She decided to go with black. Black bra and panties, black capri pants, a black top with a scoop neck, and black heels. She grabbed a black purse with a longer strap off the shelf and loaded it with her few belongings.

  The pager had a message waiting on it: "Security confirmed your safe departure. Proceeding as directed."

  She was folding up her bloodied clothes when there came a knock at the door. It was Alicia, looking gorgeous in a long red dress that hugged and held in all the right places. She was carrying a tray of assorted, fruits, chocolates, meats, cheeses, and crackers.

  "Just leave those; I'll take care of them," Alicia said in reference to her clothes.

  "I want to keep this," Gen motioned to the hoodie.

  "Of course," Alicia nodded. "I'll have it cleaned. Paul is just across the hall if you'd like to see him."