“Bullshit.”
“You really want to marry me?”
She studied him and her smile faltered.
His smile disappeared, gone in the flash of her thought. He stood and pushed her away from him, gathering his clothes and shoving them into the bag. He glared over his shoulder. “You’re the one who crawled through my bedroom window. I didn’t coerce you into having sex; you wanted that just as much as I did. If you think for a minute I’d use the influence on you, you’re insane.” He zipped up his bag and threw it on the floor. He picked up hers and threw it in her direction. “Get dressed; we have to get out of here.”
Katrina’s chin started to quiver and the tears spilled over. She rifled through her bag, looking for clothing to pull on. “You influenced the people here so easily...” She trailed off.
“It kills a part of their brain every time I do that,” he said without looking at her. “I could end up making someone a vegetable if I’m not careful.”
“I’m sorry.” She began to sob.
André turned. “Don’t cry,” he said. “Don’t fucking cry,” he repeated and the emotions caught up to him. A rollercoaster was as accurate a description as anything he could put his finger on. The highs and lows of the last twenty-four hours were enough to send him spiraling out of control and he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her pull her clothing on between sobs.
“You want to go back.”
She nodded and then shook her head. “I don’t know.” She sniffled, getting control again. “Ever since we ran into each other yesterday, it feels like I jumped on a rollercoaster and can’t get off.” She wiped her face with her hands and looked at him.
He blinked and stared at her. It was almost as if she read his mind. “Why did you use that example?”
She shrugged. “It just popped in my head.”
Her answer brought a low chuckle from his chest and he looked down at the floor. Maybe she did have a touch of ESP, just like his father and that was something he could work with.
“What is so funny?”
He glanced at her. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
She opened her mouth and closed it and then just stared at him. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“You can read minds too.”
“Bullshit.”
“You are closer than you think, Kat. I can teach you if you let me.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You can teach me? How?”
“Let’s get out of here first. I don’t want to fry their brains any more than I already have, okay?” André said.
“Okay,” Katrina said, pulling a shirt over her head and packing up her clothing. She glanced at the bed as they stood to leave. A sigh escaped and she looked back in his direction. “Where are we going?”
“City Hall.”
“Why?”
“We’re getting married.”
“We are?”
André paused and looked at Kat, his hand on the doorknob. Doubt swarmed her mind and he dropped his hand, turning toward her. “Do you love me?”
She bit her lip, and looked down at the carpet.
The swirl of her thoughts kept him holding his breath, praying she felt the same and this all wasn’t just a ruse to get back at him for some unknown transgression. A small part of him wanted to push her into it, to make her do his bidding, but he couldn’t do that. He needed her to make the decision on her own without his influence. He needed to know she accepted him for who he was. A rush of air escaped when she nodded and met his gaze.
“I know I asked, but…” She shifted and turned her back on him, looking out the window.
“But what?”
“I need to know what else you can do.”
“I’m really not sure. I can read minds, I can influence minds, and I can control physical things around me.”
“Can you kill?”
André thought about Paul and sighed. “I’m capable if I’m pushed. But then I imagine everyone can kill if pushed to their limits.”
She turned back toward him. “Can you kill with your mind?”
André looked out the window, unable to meet her questioning stare. “Probably,” he said and met her gaze. “Do you still want to marry me?”
A deep breath and a nod, and his fears dissipated. She wanted to marry him. A slow smile spread on his lips. “Let’s go.”
In the parking lot, André took out the keys and pressed the button, unlocking the hovercraft and throwing their bags in back. The clock blinked on, flashing a little after two in the afternoon, and he punched in two destinations into the navigation system–one for a pawnshop and the second for City Hall.
Twenty minutes later, they walked into a local pawnshop just around the corner from City Hall.
“Hi, I’d like to see some wedding bands,” André said, draping his arm around Katrina’s shoulders, his Southern accent, thicker than usual because of the nerves jumping under his skin like Mexican jumping beans.
“Sure thing.” The pawnshop owner pulled out a tray full of bands.
André scanned the mishmash assortment and singled out a gold ring with diamonds embedded in the band and picked it up. “Let’s see if this fits,” he said, glancing at Katrina, and she put her left hand out. The ring slid on her finger like it was made especially for her. “Do you like it?”
She smiled and nodded. “What about yours?”
“You pick.”
After studying a few rings, she settled on a simple thick gold band with a solitary diamond chip and slid it on his left ring finger. The fit was perfect and they grinned at each other.
“We’ll take these,” André said.
“That’ll be a thousand dollars.”
André inhaled and glanced at the video cameras, willing a glitch in the recording while he reached for his wallet. He pulled out a hundred dollars and put it on the counter, pushing with his mind as he slid the bills forward. “This ought to cover it.”
The owner smiled and counted out the money with a nod before he slid it away in the cash box. “Thank you for doing business with us,” he said and wandered toward the back of the shop.
André put his arm around Katrina’s waist and led her out of the building without another word. They slid into the hovercraft, glancing at each other as he flipped the tracking back on and the hovercraft headed for City Hall.
“I really hate doing that,” he said and sighed.
Katrina studied the ring on her hand and sent a smile in his direction. “Thank you.”
“You really want to do this?” he asked as he parked in front of the building.
“Yes, but only if you want to,” she said and he laughed.
“Asking me if I want to marry you is like asking if I want to breathe, although sometimes when I’m around you, I find it impossible to catch my breath.”
“Aw,” she said and put her hand over her heart. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
He rolled his eyes and smiled. “So you’re good?”
“Yes.”
They entered the grand atrium and scanned the directory, homing in on the justice of the peace located on the third floor. André led Katrina up the stairwell. “Can I have your ring?” he asked when they stood in front of the room.
She peeled it off her finger and offered it to him in exchange for his.
He stared at the ring in his hand and glanced at her, wondering if this was a dream and for an instant, he had the surreal feeling that if he opened the door, he’d be back in that godforsaken death pod and all these wonderful years on Earth would have been nothing but an elaborate dream. Fear saturated his cells and he clamped his eyes closed, praying this was real.
“André?”
Her voice broke through his terror and he opened his eyes. “Ready?” he asked.
“I am,” she said.
He opened the door and relief swept through his bones at the mundane office and the judge draped in black robes behind the desk. They stepped in.
&
nbsp; Judge Simpson looked up from the papers strewn on his desk. “May I help you?”
“Yes, we’d like you to marry us,” André said.
“Do you have a license?”
André pulled out his driver’s license and handed it to the judge.
The judge chuckled and studied the identification. “You’re a little young to be getting married,” he said, handing the license back to André.
“Yes but we have our parents’ consent.”
“Do you have the approved application for marriage?” he asked.
André slipped his license back into his wallet. Shit, here we go again. “You’ve got it there on your desk,” he said and waved toward the papers, willing the judge to do his bidding.
The judge pulled out a blank marriage license and filled it in according to André’s silent instruction and when he finished, he turned it to André with a dull, distant look in his eyes.
André sent a sideways glance at Katrina and closed his eyes, tapping into his mother’s mind and scrawling her signature in the slot for parental consent. Commander Lawrence’s was harder but he managed to get a ghost of a glimpse and signed his name as well. A small headache formed behind his right eye and he slid the paper back to the judge.
The judge nodded, smiling as he picked up the form, focusing on the document in front of him. “Ah, yes, yes, I do indeed and it looks like everything is in order.”
“Yes, sir.” André smiled, giving another push.
The judge stood and pressed an intercom. “Betty, can you and Harry come in here to witness a marriage ceremony please?” He smiled as they waited. An elderly woman and a middle-aged man came into the room and glanced between the young couple and the judge.
André smiled and stifled a yawn. Even the little pushes wiped him out, but this was worth every second of exhaustion.
Judge Simpson began the simple civil service. “Do you, André Robbins, take Katrina Lee Lawrence to be your wife?”
“I do,” André replied.
“Do you, Katrina Lee Lawrence, take André Robbins to be your husband?”
“I do,” Katrina said, looking up into André’s eyes and he sighed with relief.
“Take the ring and slide it onto her finger and repeat after me. This is a symbol of my love and fidelity,” Judge Simpson said and waited.
André positioned the ring at her first knuckle and looked into her green eyes. A mix of emotions sprung forth and he took a deep relaxing breath before speaking. “This is a symbol of my love and fidelity,” André said with a slight tremor in his voice and he slid the ring on her finger.
Judge Simpson looked at Katrina.
Katrina slid the ring on André’s finger. “This is a symbol of my love and fidelity,” she said without being prompted.
“By the power vested in me by the grand state of Illinois, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” he said. “You can kiss your bride.”
André leaned over and kissed Katrina. He smiled as he stood back up. “May I have a copy of the marriage license?”
The judge smiled and nodded. “They’ll give you a copy in the clerk’s office,” he said and had the witnesses sign the certificate as well as Katrina and André before he signed and stamped the marriage license with the state seal. “Just ask for a copy when you drop this off at the clerk’s office on the first floor.”
“Thank you, Judge Simpson,” André said and they headed out of his office, stopping in the clerk’s office to file the certificate and get a copy.
When they stepped outside into the bright sunshine, Katrina asked, “Was that legal?”
“Yes, as long as our parents don’t charge us with forgery,” he said and stared at the copy of the marriage certificate in his hand. The fact he broke the law yet again weighed heavy on him, but when he glanced at her, it all made it worthwhile. She was now his wife and he folded the certificate, sliding it into his wallet. “Where to, Mrs. Robbins?”
“Lake Michigan.” Kat smiled. “But first, you look like you’re in need of a hotel.”
She didn’t know the half of it. All that mind bending had left him in a state near collapse and while she had visions of more carnal activities on her mind, all he wanted was an hour of sleep to get his bearings back, and then he’d gladly comply with her silent wishes.
The door burst off the hinges and André shot up, his arms tightening around Katrina. A squadron of police barreled into the luxury honeymoon suite of the hotel bordering Lake Michigan. Fifteen guns trained on them and Katrina yanked the sheet up, covering her naked form and uncoupled from the straddled position she fell asleep in.
Commander Lawrence stormed to the end of the bed, his gun drawn and pointed at André.
André didn’t flinch; he just glared at his father-in-law, looking from the end of the barrel to his face. “I married her today, sir,” he said.
The gun never wavered. “Get your hands off my daughter,” Commander Lawrence growled.
“Dad, I married André.” Katrina spoke, causing her father’s gaze to fall on her. “I’m his wife.” She held up her left hand, showing him the ring.
“The marriage certificate is in my wallet,” André said. He looked around the room at the wall of cops. “Do you mind?”
“André Robbins, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Katrina Lawrence,” the closest officer began.
“He didn’t kidnap me!” Katrina yelled. “I married him.”
“You have the right to remain silent...”
André traded a glance with Katrina. This wasn’t working. No matter what he said, he’d either be arrested or shot based on the commander’s instructions. He sent a small push. “This is a family matter, not a police matter.”
Collectively the officers blinked, and all the guns lowered except Commander Lawrence’s. After a quick gaze between André and Commander Lawrence, the squadron filtered out of the room, closing the door behind them.
Commander Lawrence watched in dumb fascination before he snapped his gaze back to André. Fury etched into the commander’s features, transforming his handsome face into an ugly mask of rage. He pulled the trigger and a flash shot out of the laser gun.
André only had a fraction of a second warning and tackled Katrina, pushing her down on the mattress, out of the way of the laser beam. The shot cut through the headboard where his head was moments before and anger leapt to the forefront of André’s mind.
He let loose, vaporizing the gun and singeing the commander’s hand in the process.
The pain in his head grew to a throbbing pulse at the exertion. He reached for the bathrobe on the edge of the bed, handing it to Katrina without taking his gaze from the cursing commander standing at the end of the bed, shaking the burn from his hand.
After Katrina eased off the bed, he grabbed the other bathrobe and threaded his arms through the plush fabric, tying the robe before sliding from the bed. He crossed to the table, grabbing his wallet, and plucked the marriage certificate from the folds, holding it out to Commander Lawrence.
Commander Lawrence cradled his burnt hand to his chest, his breath coming in harsh rips matching that of André, his gaze jumping from the piece of paper to his eyes. He snatched the sheet from André and scanned the document, his jaw tightening with every word.
“In Illinois it’s legal,” André said. “You don’t have to be eighteen if you have parental consent.”
The commander stared at the form, his face taking on the same tone as a fire engine. “I don’t care whether you think it’s legal or not. You are a goddamn alien, a freak,” he growled. “You don’t have any rights here.”
He turned full toward the commander, his jaw dropping at the discriminatory slant.
Katrina stepped in front of André. “Daddy, I love him.”
“You are sixteen. You have no clue what love is,” he spouted back at her.
“You told me you met Mom when you were sixteen.”
His lips thinned and his eyes narrowed. “What I had with y
our mother isn’t even in the same league as this. You don’t even know him.”
Katrina looked down at the floor. “I know enough that I want to spend the rest of my life with him and you forbid me to see him. What else were we supposed to do?”
Commander Lawrence gaped at his daughter. “Katrina, you are coming home with me.”
“No, Dad, I’m not.”
He took a step toward her, and André stopped him short with an invisible wall.
“No way,” André replied. “I’ll take her somewhere where you can’t find us,” he warned.
Matthew flew into the hotel room, out of breath, praying he wasn’t too late. The commander had left swearing he would kill André when he got his hands on him. He slid to a stop as he took in the scene.
Commander Lawrence glared at him, flinging a piece of paper in his direction.
Matthew caught the paper and looked at it. His eyes nearly popped out of his head at the title. “A marriage certificate?” He looked up at André, receiving a nod and he returned his gaze to the signatures, Linda’s signature. His gaze shot back to André. “Your mother never signed this.” He held it out.
“Are you sure, Dad? She was in my room for a while last night. Who’s to say she didn’t sign the consent form?”
Matthew dropped his gaze to the form, confirming again that his wife’s distinctive scrawl graced the page. Doubt crawled under his skin and his eyes drifted to André’s left hand, where a wedding band glimmered.
He knew his wife.
He knew she’d never do this behind his back.
Clenching his jaw, he raised his eyes to meet his son’s defiant glare. “You are in a world of trouble, young man,” he said, handing the paper back to his son.
“If you try to break us up, we’ll run away again.”
“André, you can’t run. Your picture is all over the television.”
André looked at his father. “Who said we’d run inside the domes?”
Outside? Is he out of his goddamn mind? “She’ll die on the outside,” Matthew said. “There isn’t enough oxygen.”
André cocked his head in challenge, raising an eyebrow. “How long has it been since someone tried?”
“That’s how we enact a death sentence, André. The last one was sent outside the dome in Texas three weeks ago. He lasted less than twenty minutes before he died,” Matthew said.
Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection Page 102
