Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by hamilton, rebecca

  “Daddy, I, um...” She looked at André, pulling her hand out of his grip and turning toward her father in one smooth move.

  “I dropped you off at school this morning.” His teeth clenched at the obvious disobedience.

  “I know. I just wanted to see him, Daddy,” she said, waving toward André.

  Commander Lawrence shot a glance at André. “You’ve seen. Now get back to school and we’ll talk about how long you’re grounded tonight,” he said.

  “Please let her stay,” André said, alternating his gaze from Katrina to the commander.

  “Maybe some other time,” Colonel Robbins said as he and Cal stepped into the room.

  “Please, Daddy,” Katrina begged.

  “No, Katrina, you have school.” Commander Lawrence crossed the room and took her by the arm, leading her out of the infirmary, closing the door on her imploring eyes.

  André turned his attention to Colonel Robbins and Cal. “She woke me up.” As if that could explain the girl in his hospital room. A girl who was as much a delusion as anything else that was happening.

  “She snuck in here last night, too,” Cal said, crossing to the monitors and scanning the readouts. “You’re doing much better this morning.”

  Before André could respond, Commander Lawrence walked back into the room and stood at the foot of the bed, inspecting André.

  “André, I’d like you to meet Commander Lawrence. Commander, this is André,” Colonel Robbins introduced.

  Doubt and suspicion radiated from the commander.

  “Nice to meet you,” André replied.

  Commander Lawrence gave a curt nod. “My daughter is of no interest to you,” he said to André. “Understand?”

  André nodded his head slightly, his eyes drifting between the commander and Colonel Robbins. She certainly is of interest to me.

  “When I ask a question, I expect an answer.”

  “Y-yes, I understand.”

  “Good, because you are not allowed to go near my daughter.”

  The order, while par for the course in his hallucinations, still shook André. He wanted to see her again, to get to know her, to grow old with her and if this was indeed real, nothing on this planet could stop him.

  Commander Lawrence studied André further and seeming satisfied, moved on to his next question. “Young man, what brings you to our solar system?”

  “Luck,” André said, wondering if this was the precursor to being exiled again. It was either that or being torn apart by vicious animals or being slowly suffocated. That’s how the dreams usually ended, bringing him back to the dark pod.

  “Why do you say that?”

  André’s gaze darted between Colonel Robbins and the commander. “Because I don’t know how much longer I can last out here,” he replied; his voice choked and a red sheen filled his vision. He blinked and hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

  Commander Lawrence gasped.

  “It’s normal, sir,” Cal said and pulled a sheet of tissue from the box next to the bed, handing it to André.

  André closed his eyes, wiping his face with the soft cloth.

  “How long have you been in space, son?” Commander Lawrence asked, his tone softening.

  André shrugged. “Officer Grey thinks I’m eleven and if that’s the case, I’ve been drifting for five years,” he said.

  The commander rubbed his chin in thought and turned toward Colonel Robbins with a slight nod. “Colonel Robbins will be responsible for you from here on in,” he said and left without another word.

  Cal and Colonel Robbins exchanged a glance and both exhaled.

  “Do I really have to stay away from Katrina?”

  Colonel Robbins returned his attention to André. “Yes, you are to stay away from Katrina Lawrence.” He turned to Cal. “Is he ready to be released?”

  André noted the hesitation and something about a psych evaluation crossed the officer’s mind, but instead of voicing his concern, he nodded.

  “I think that might be best.”

  “Thanks, Cal. I couldn’t have done it without you.” The colonel reached across and offered his hand to Cal.

  “No problem. He’s a special kid.” He leaned toward the colonel and whispered in his ear, so André couldn’t hear but his thoughts rang through loud and clear.

  “Be careful, Matt. I’m not sure he knows what’s real and what isn’t yet.”

  André glanced between the two men. He couldn’t help but feel the tendrils of hope wrapping around his heart.

  “Will do,” Colonel Robbins answered and grabbed the wheelchair in the corner.

  “I can walk,” André said, swinging his scrawny legs over the side of the bed, still wearing the hospital Johnny they put him in when he arrived.

  Colonel Robbins shook his head with a smile. “I don’t think you want the world’s first real view of you to be a bare ass as you walk past.”

  Cal burst out laughing at the colonel’s comment. “I think I can drum up something for him to wear,” he said and disappeared into the adjoining room. He came back a few minutes later with a pair of underwear, denim jeans, and a t-shirt that was an exact match with André’s eyes.

  “Thank you,” André said, taking the clothes from Cal and looking at the wardrobe. Colonel Robbins sent him a mental note on how to dress.

  “I remember how to put clothing on,” André said. “Do you mind?” He looked at the two men standing in the room.

  Both men turned their backs on André, amused by his modesty.

  André slipped into the clothing, relishing the clean fabric. He ran his hands over the t-shirt; the soft cotton brushed his fingertips and he swallowed, not allowing himself to believe, not yet. “Okay,” André said, shaking the hope away and waiting for the dream to morph.

  Colonel Robbins turned and nodded. “Now you’re presentable.” He led André out of the infirmary.

  Katrina trotted up next to André as he followed Colonel Robbins out of the building. “Hi,” she announced and fell in step next to them.

  “You should be at school, Katrina.” The colonel shot her a glance. “Your father wouldn’t approve.”

  “Screw my dad,” she said, shocking both of them. “He isn’t the boss of me.” She flipped her hair back over her shoulder.

  “That’s pretty disrespectful,” André said and kept walking.

  She grabbed André’s arm and pulled him to a stop. “I’m sorry.”

  Her big, green, sincere eyes melted his heart and he looked over at Colonel Robbins.

  “Katrina, your father would not approve of you being here with us,” he said again.

  “I don’t want to upset your father,” André said. “He doesn’t trust me and this will hurt any chances I have of ever gaining that trust.”

  Katrina looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I just wanted to...” She trailed off.

  “Talk to the alien?” André smiled.

  “Yeah,” she admitted with a smile, and skipped in the opposite direction, her hair bouncing in a way that stirred a need deep within him.

  With a smile plastered on his lips, he turned back to Colonel Robbins.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he said and put his hand on the back of his neck, leading him away.

  “Too late,” André said.

  6

  Matthew walked into the house with André in tow and pointed to the living room couch. “Have a seat,” he said and went to find his wife.

  Linda stood over the kitchen stove, whipping up dinner, preferring to do it herself, rather than dictate the menu to a computer. Wonderful smells drifted through the house.

  “Hi honey,” he said from the kitchen doorway. “Remember what I talked to you about last night?”

  “Yes.” Linda turned her fair, freckled face toward her husband. Her pale blue eyes stared at him through a couple fallen strands of strawberry blonde hair.

  “Do you have enough for three?”

  “Really?” She
took the pot off the stove, placing it on the cool counter surface.

  Matthew glanced over his shoulder. “Yes, really. I think I’ve pretty much screwed any further advances in my career, but...” He turned back toward her, locking eyes. “He needs a home. Come on.” He led her into the living room.

  André studied the pictures that graced the mantel and he turned and smiled at Matthew’s wife. “Hi.”

  Linda’s eyes went wide and she turned to Matthew. “He looks so... so human.”

  Matthew smiled, nodded and shrugged.

  Her eyes flashed with both hope and fear.

  “My name’s André,” he introduced himself, extending his hand like he saw Matthew do in the hospital.

  Linda’s tight, nervous features relaxed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that...it’s just that I didn’t think Matthew was serious,” she said, embarrassed, offering a small smile. “Welcome home, André,” she said and walked over; ignoring his outstretched hand. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him in a warm hug.

  Warmth and quiet resigned acceptance radiated from her, and André glanced at Matthew through a red sheen of tears. “Thank you,” he said.

  Linda pulled away and put her hand on André’s face. “Why are you crying?”

  He wasn’t sure he could formulate the words but he tried anyway. “I’ve never had a home,” he said, wiping his face. His parents had been on the run for so long before the emperor found them. He had no memory of anything else. They were never in one place for any length of time before word got out about the blue-eyed boy.

  “Well, you do now.” Linda glanced at Matthew and back. “Are you hungry?”

  André nodded. Gratitude encompassed him and he offered a forced smile, sniffling and swiping his face again. “Thank you.”

  “You might not feel that way once we talk about rules,” Matthew said.

  André laughed a little and he followed Linda into the kitchen.

  “I’m not kidding,” Matthew said.

  “Leave the boy alone, Matt.” Linda leveled a stare over her shoulder at her husband.

  André sat where she indicated and waited for his food, watching the pleasant dynamics between the colonel and his wife.

  Matthew sat at the table in front of his meal and looked over at André. “The rules,” he began.

  “Matt,” Linda started.

  Matthew held up his hand. “The rules,” he said again. “First, we need to get you enrolled in school.”

  André’s jaw dropped with his fork halfway to his mouth and his eyes glued on Matthew’s.

  “Second, you will come home from school and do your homework. Then you will help with whatever Linda needs you to do.” He took a bite of the food. “This is great, honey,” he deviated from the rules for a moment. “Bedtime is by nine pm,” he added. “When you make friends, and I’m sure you will, you can play only after your homework is done. Understand?”

  Dumbfounded, he nodded, although he had never been to school and he was never any place long enough to make friends.

  “We can tell the school that you are Matthew’s nephew—you lost your parents and are living with us now. I’ll make sure transcripts are produced so your real identity is kept under wraps,” Matthew added. “They won’t know unless you tell them.”

  André looked down at his food. The prospect of being a normal kid overwhelmed him; this deviated so much from any vision he had to date and doubt began to creep in. Maybe this was real. “I don’t know,” he said, unsure of himself.

  “You don’t know what?” Matthew asked.

  “I’ve never been to school,” he said, putting his fork on the side of the plate and picking up his glass.

  “Don’t they have schools on your planet?” Linda asked.

  André nodded.

  “Why didn’t you go?”

  André shrugged and took a sip of his milk. “We were never in one place long enough.” He placed the glass back on the table and stared at the plate. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, afraid of the questions in her eyes.

  “Why did you move around so much?” Matthew asked.

  “Because...” André looked back at Linda. Her eyes were blue too. “Because my eyes are blue,” he admitted sheepishly and returned his gaze to his food, the embarrassment heating his cheeks.

  “You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen,” Linda interrupted.

  André shrugged a little. “I was different,” he said. “My parents died because I was different.”

  When Linda took his hand, he glanced in her direction, surprised as much by the gesture as what he saw.

  Her eyes reflected a deep sadness punctuated by clear tears that rolled down her cheeks. “Oh, honey,” she whispered.

  André slowly withdrew his hand and finished what was on his plate.

  “Can you read?” Matthew asked after he had finished his meal.

  André shook his head. He couldn’t read his own language, never mind this civilization’s.

  Matthew sat back in the chair and blew out a stream of air.

  “I can teach you to read,” Linda offered before Matthew could comment. “It’s not hard once you learn the alphabet.”

  “Alphabet?”

  “The letters that make up the words,” she explained as she stood and cleared the dishes. “I’ll show you in a few minutes.” She smiled over her shoulder, popping the dishes in the sanitizer. She walked out of the room and returned with some lined paper and the alphabet books she used in her classroom.

  Matthew retreated to his upstairs office while Linda worked with André.

  André wandered into the office an hour later, now able to recite the letters of the alphabet in order and recognize a few of them by sight. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, interrupting Matthew.

  Matthew looked up at him and took off his reading glasses. “Doing what?”

  André tilted his head and raised his eyebrow. “You know what I’m asking.”

  Matthew leaned back in the chair. “Please close the door,” he said.

  The door closed behind André without physical intervention.

  Matthew let out a bark of a laugh. “That freaks me out a little,” he admitted.

  “Why are you doing this?” André asked, sensing an underlying agenda.

  Matthew sighed. “Because my wife can’t have children,” he admitted. “And adoption wasn’t in the cards either. I’m not in a line of work that allows that.” He leaned back in the chair. “You need a home; she needs to be a mother.” He shrugged. “It just made sense.”

  André sat down in the chair opposite the desk and looked around the room. The walls were lined with books and he recognized some of the letters that Linda had gone through with him, which made him smile. “What do I call you and your wife?”

  “What do you want to call us?” Matthew asked.

  André shrugged.

  “You can call us Matthew and Linda, if that’s what makes you comfortable,” he replied.

  André nodded and stood up. “Thank you.” He licked his lips. “Matthew,” he said, not quite feeling right about using the man’s proper name.

  Matthew stood and escorted André to the guest room. “This will be your room,” he said, flipping the light on. He pointed toward a doorway in the corner. “You have a bathroom over there.” He turned toward André. “Another rule. No locking your bedroom door. A locked door means something is going on inside that I wouldn’t approve of,” he said sternly. “Are we clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” André replied looking around the room. It was more than he ever had in his young life. “Thank you.”

  “Goodnight, André,” Matthew said and messed up his hair.

  “Goodnight, sir,” André said.

  Matthew cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows at André.

  “Goodnight, Matthew,” André corrected. He waited until the door closed behind Matthew before he let the sob escape. Gratitude and fear snaked over his skin, combining to a crippling c
ombination, and he fell to his knees on the plush carpet with his face in his hands.

  He never expected to live long enough to see a planet, never mind meet people willing to take him in, to offer food and a place to sleep, to offer kindness and make him feel safe. He didn’t trust what he saw, what he felt, and wondered if this was just another last-ditch hallucination or if it truly was real.

  It was too much for him and he let the tears come, staining his shirt and pants as they fell through his fingers. Fear kept his palms to his face—afraid if he moved them away, he’d still be in that god forsaken death ship.

  7

  August 2239

  “What do you mean I can’t go out for the football team?” André slammed his glass down on the dinner table.

  “After what happened on the soccer team last year, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Matthew said. “You nearly killed that goalie. You were so caught up in winning; you forgot just how dangerous you can be.”

  André glared at his father but said nothing.

  “You didn’t just kick that ball, did you?” Matthew yelled when André said nothing.

  “Fine! I gave it a little push—so what? We won the championship.”

  Matthew threw his napkin on the table. “You shouldn’t have won. You used the power you have and that wasn’t a level playing field. It was cheating.” He stormed out of the room and slammed the door to his study, leaving André sitting at the table with Linda.

  “Your father is right, you know,” she said softly, picking at her food. “You should have never taken advantage of the situation like you did. Winning isn’t everything.”

  André glanced over at her. “But Mom,” he whined, “I really want to play football.”

  “I know, honey, but you don’t always get what you want. Life doesn’t work that way.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because that’s just the way it is.” She stood and paused in the doorway. “Your father cares a great deal about you, André. He’s only doing what he thinks is best.”

  “Bullshit. He just wants to control me,” André snapped.