Clutching his car keys, she climbed to her feet and hurried into the laboratory.
"Micah!"
"Lainey?" He turned toward the sound of her voice. "What's happened?"
"I knocked Red out. Do you know where he keeps the keys to that cage and the shackles?"
"No."
With the baby pressed to her shoulder, Lainey searched the lab, her frustration growing by the moment. Damn, where had Red put those keys?
A cry of mingled triumph and revulsion escaped her lips when she finally spied what she was looking for dangling from one of the skeleton's bony fingers. With a shudder, she plucked the keys from the skeleton's hand and crossed the floor to the cage.
It took several tries before she found the key that unlocked the door. Placing the baby on the floor beside her, she knelt down beside Micah and removed the mask from his face.
He stared up at her, blinking against the light.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
Micah nodded, his gaze moving to the blanket-wrapped bundle on the floor beside Lainey.
It took another few precious moments to free Micah's hands. "Come on," Lainey urged, "we've got to get out of here before he wakes up."
But Micah was reaching for the baby, drawing the blanket away from the infant's face. My son, he thought.
Lainey's heart swelled with love as she looked at the two men in her life, but there was no time for father and son to get acquainted now.
"Please, Micah, we've got to go." Rising, her legs still weak and wobbly from the birth, she took the baby from Micah so he could stand up.
Using the wall for support, Micah climbed to his feet. He could feel the physical effects of the drug that limited his power wearing off and he took several deep breaths, hoping it would help clear his head.
"Ready?" Lainey asked anxiously. "We'll have to take his car."
Micah moved away from the wall and took another deep breath. Caught up in the excitement of the birth, Red had forgotten about the sedative he usually administered in the afternoon. "Let's go."
"Not so fast."
Lainey whirled around, felt the color drain from her face when she saw Red standing in the doorway, one hand pressed over the gash in his forehead, his other hand fisted around a snub-nosed revolver whose barrel looked as large and deadly as that of a cannon.
"Attempted murder and grand theft auto," Red mused. "Not a very nice way to repay the man who helped bring your baby into the world." He wagged the gun back and forth. "Step away from him."
"No."
"It would be a shame if I missed the alien and hit the child."
"You wouldn't!" Lainey exclaimed.
Red's eyes were as cold as winter frost. "Are you willing to take that chance?"
Lainey glanced at Micah. At his nod, she moved away from him.
Red was going to kill Micah. The knowledge of what was going to happen, and her inability to stop it, filled her with such excruciating pain she was certain her soul was being torn to shreds.
A slow smile of satisfaction was spreading over Red's face as his finger curled around the trigger.
Lainey stared at Micah, imprinting his face on her heart as she waited for the gunshot that would end Micah's life and destroy all her hopes for the future.
But the gunshot never came. Instead, a high-pitched whine filled the room, ringing in her ears, sending icy shivers down her spine.
The baby began to cry and she cradled him against her breast, wishing she could shut out the awful sound of Red's anguished scream, a heart-wrenching shriek that seemed to have no beginning and no end.
And then, abruptly, there was only silence.
She started to turn around when Micah's voice stopped her.
"No, Lainey," he said, his voice flat. "Don't look."
For a moment, Micah stood there with his head down, feeling the hatred, the power, recede.
He drew a deep, calming breath, and then he crossed the room and placed his arm around Lainey's waist. He could feel her whole body trembling as he pried Red's car keys from her fist. "Let's go."
Outside, Micah unlocked Red's car, helped Lainey inside, and closed the door. Going around to the driver's side, he slid behind the wheel, took a deep breath, and turned the key in the ignition.
Lainey looked at him dubiously. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"I've watched you often enough," he replied with a shrug, and put the car in gear.
They ditched the car two blocks away from home. Lainey stood in the shadows, unable to stop shivering, while Micah took a rag and went over the car inside and out, wiping away their fingerprints.
And then, ignoring her protests, he swung her into his arms and carried her and the baby home.
She was asleep by the time they reached the house.
Micah sat beside Lainey's bed, his son cradled in his arms. His son. He couldn't get over it—the miracle of life, the wonder of holding a child, his child.
He glanced at Lainey. She was sleeping peacefully, one hand pillowing her cheek. He thought of the physical pain she had gone through to bring his son into the world, the fear she'd experienced when Red abducted her, her courage in simply accepting him for who and what he was, for being willing to love him in spite of everything. She was a brave woman, with the heart of a warrior and the soul of an angel.
He gazed down at his son, lightly stroking the boy's downy cheek, fingering the thatch of curly black hair. Never in his life had he known such a sense of awe, such a feeling of protectiveness, as he felt now. He tried to imagine what the child's life would be like, but he couldn't imagine how it would be to grow up in a house instead of in a controlled environment, couldn't begin to fathom experiencing a mother's love and tenderness, a father's concern. How would his son feel when he learned that he was different from other children, that his father came from a faraway star?
Would his son be able to accept the fact that he was different, or would he resent it? And what of his physical differences? The size of his ears, the webbing on his hands, the slight slant of his eyes?
Micah stared out the window. And what of the power? Had his son inherited the inner power that Xanthians were blessed with? If he had, would Micah be able to teach him to use it with restraint? Would his son consider his innate power a curse, or a blessing?
So many questions, so many unknown factors to consider.
Glancing down, Micah saw the baby looking up at him, his expression strangely wise for one so young.
All in good time, his son seemed to be saying, and Micah smiled.
"All in good time," he repeated, determined to enjoy every moment he was allowed to spend with Lainey and their son, afraid, deep inside, that the day would come when he'd have to tell them both good-bye.
Lainey called her parents first thing the next morning. Dolores and Ralph were at the house less than thirty minutes later.
Dolores blinked back tears of joy and relief as she hugged her daughter. "Lainey, thank God, we were so worried. We called the police, but we had no idea where to tell them to look for you."
"It's all right Mom, I'm fine, honest. I'm just so glad it's all over."
Dolores nodded. "Oh! Ralph, did you remember to call the police and tell them she was home?"
Ralph nodded. "They thought I was nuts when I said she'd spent a couple nights at a friend's and we'd forgotten about it."
"Oh, Daddy," Lainey said, laughing. "Was that the best you could think of?"
"Shoot, I was lucky to think at all, what with being a new grandfather and all. Where's that grandson of mine?"
Micah went to make coffee while the new grandparents took turns holding their new grandson, counting his tiny fingers and toes, marveling over how perfect he was.
"He doesn't look much different from other new babies," Dolores remarked. "I don't think anyone will be able to tell he's…"
She glanced toward the kitchen, glad that Micah was out of the room. "It's still so hard to believe that he's an al
ien. I mean…" She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "The baby looks perfectly normal except for that bit of webbing on his hands. His ears are only a tiny bit smaller than ordinary. And lots of people have eyes that slant a little."
"I can't help but worry, though," Ralph said. "What happens when he gets sick?''
Ralph looked up as Micah entered the room carrying a tray with four cups and the coffee pot. "We don't know how he'll react to normal childhood diseases like measles and chicken pox. I mean, they might be fatal."
"We'll just have to wait and see," Lainey said.
"My people have done numerous studies on such things," Micah remarked as he poured the coffee. "Our scientists have determined that a child born of an earthling and a Xanthian would be immune to whatever diseases the mother and father are immune to."
Ralph looked skeptical. "But they don't know that for sure, do they? I mean, it's just conjecture."
Micah nodded. "Of course. To my knowledge, no Xanthian has ever joined with a member of another race."
Later, after the baby had fallen asleep at Lainey's breast, Dolores and Ralph insisted that Lainey tell them everything that had happened.
Micah sat back, the coffee in his cup growing cold, his gaze fixed on Lainey's face as she told her story. She made light of her fears, glossed over the pain of childbirth, but Ralph and Dolores weren't fooled, and in the end she told them all of it, how scared she'd been, not only for herself, but for Micah and the baby.
She related how Red had kept her handcuffed to the bed, how he had kept Micah locked in a cage. She spoke of the innumerable photos the man had taken, the tests he had performed on Micah, the copious notes he had taken, recording everything from Micah's height and weight to the amount of food and water he consumed each day.
She told of being in labor, how frightened she had been, not only of the pain, which was worse than she had ever imagined, but for her child's life. Her words came faster as she told how she had hit Red over the head with a pitcher, how she had taken his keys and freed Micah.
"And that man?" Ralph asked, sitting forward. "Where is he now?''
"He's dead." Micah said, taking part in the story for the first time.
Ralph glanced at Lainey, then back at Micah. "You're sure?"
"Quite sure."
"And the body?"
Micah met Ralph's gaze squarely. "There is none."
Lainey's mother stared at Micah, a wordless sound of horror rising in her throat.
Ralph St. John held Micah's gaze a moment and then looked away.
Dolores took Lainey's hand in hers, but it was Micah to whom she directed her question. "What are you going to do now?"
"I don't know. It's up to Lainey."
"We'll stay here," Lainey replied. "The three men who knew about Micah are dead. We should be safe now."
"I don't know," Ralph said dubiously. "What about Red's notes? The pictures?"
"If we're to stay here, I'll have to go back and destroy them," Micah said.
"I'll go with you," Ralph said.
"I think it would be better if I went alone."
"Nonsense."
"I think Micah's right, Dad."
"I'll go tonight, if you'll stay with Lainey."
"Of course."
They spent the rest of the day trying to decide on a name for the baby. Dolores wanted to name the baby Ralph, after his grandfather; Ralph wanted to name the baby Monroe, after his own father; Micah said it was up to Lainey. In the end, they named the baby Micah Ralph Monroe.
"That's quite a handle for such a little tyke," Ralph remarked.
"He'll grow into it," Lainey said, smiling up at Micah. "In the meantime, we'll call him Mike, for short."
"Mike," Dolores said, grinning as the baby's tiny fist closed around her finger. "I like that. What do you think, Micah?" she asked, glancing up at him.
But Micah had eyes only for Lainey, and the infant cradled in her arms.
"I think I'm the luckiest creature in the universe."
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was almost midnight when Micah left the house, bound for Red's laboratory.
Lainey was a nervous wreck the whole time he was gone. Her imagination, always active, went into overdrive. She had chewed all the fingernails on her left hand and was starting on her right when Micah returned to the house.
"Where are the pictures?" Lainey asked anxiously. "Couldn't you find them?"
"They're gone."
"Gone?"
"Everything's gone," Micah said. "The building, everything. It looks like there was a fire."
Lainey looked at Micah, frowning. "A fire? Did you…"
"No, I didn't start it."
"Well, then, I guess we don't have anything to worry about," Lainey exclaimed. "I say we celebrate." She looked up at Micah, her eyes luminous. "By getting married."
Las Vegas was nothing like what Micah had expected. A million glowing lights turned the night to day. The hotel was filled with people. And noise. The constant hum of conversation punctuated by excited shouts. Bells ringing. The seemingly endless confusion at the crap table, waitresses calling drink orders, the harsh clatter of silver pouring out of slot machines. And above it all a haze of drifting gray smoke.
The bright lights bothered his eyes; the noise was overwhelming.
They made arrangements to be married the following morning. Then Dolores and Ralph took the baby up to their room so that Lainey could show Micah around.
Lainey found a quarter machine she liked and Micah stood behind her, mildly fascinated by the slot machine, intrigued by Lainey's enthusiasm whenever the machine dropped a few quarters into the tray.
"Darn!" Lainey exclaimed. "One more seven and I'd have won."
Micah grunted softly, and the next time Lainey pulled the handle, he leaned forward and touched the side of the machine with the tip of his forefinger.
When three sevens appeared, Lainey's excited shout nearly deafened him. Jumping up from her seat, she threw her arms around him. "We won! We won!"
With a grin, he gathered her into his arms while bells rang and people stopped to watch.
"Would you like to win again?" he asked, leaning close to her ear.
Lainey stared up at him, a shocked expression on her face. "You did that?"
Micah shrugged. "You said you wanted to win."
"Shhh." Lainey looked around. "Micah, that's cheating."
"Cheating?"
"You did something to the machine to make it pay off. That's cheating. How did you do it? Never mind, don't tell me. Just don't do it again."
She glanced around, wondering if anyone had seen him manipulate the machine. She couldn't keep the money. It wasn't right. She should give the money back to the casino, but how could she explain what had happened?
"You're an idiot, Lainey St. John," she muttered under her breath. She didn't have to explain anything to anybody. All she had to do was keep playing the machine. Sooner or later, she'd lose it all back, she thought, but to her dismay, the machine continued to pay off.
"Micah, stop it," she whispered.
"Stop what?"
"Whatever it is you're doing. I'm trying to lose."
Micah shook his head. "I'm not doing anything."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. I have to touch the machine to manipulate it."
"But I'm winning. I never win!"
"Maybe your luck has changed."
Lainey glanced over her shoulder, her gaze moving over Micah in a long, slow glance. Dressed in navy-blue slacks and a light-blue sweater, he looked good enough to eat.
"My luck changed the day I met you," Lainey purred with a seductive smile, and they both knew she wasn't talking about her sudden run of good luck at the slot machine.
They were married the next morning at a small white wedding chapel. Lainey wore a pale pink suit with a frothy white blouse and pink heels; Micah wore a dark gray suit and tie.
There was a moment of confusion when they fi
lled out the marriage license. Micah couldn't use his Xanthian surname and after a hushed conference, it was decided he should use Dolores's maiden name, Forrester.
The ceremony was short, the words were simple, the baby cried through the whole thing, and yet Micah wouldn't have changed a thing. Lainey looked beautiful, like a star flower in full bloom. Their son's soft cries filled him with a sense of wonder as he realized anew that he had helped to create a new life.
He held Lainey's hand in his, blind to everything else as she promised to love, honor and cherish him in sickness and in health so long as they lived. Simple words. Powerful words that bound them together, body and soul, heart to heart. It was with a feeling of reverence that he placed the ring he had bought the night before on her finger, remembering the holy man's words:
The ring is an outward symbol of your union, which from this day forward will have no beginning and no end. May your love always shine as brightly as this token of your devotion to one another.
After the ceremony, they went to lunch at the Tropicana, and then they took a cab out to the airport to catch a flight home.
On the plane, Lainey sat beside Micah. Her husband. She glanced down at the wide, plain gold band on her finger, then lifted her gaze to his face, only to find him watching her through troubled eyes.
"What's wrong?" Lainey asked. "You're not sorry you married me already, are you?"
"No." He took her hand, his long fingers curling around hers. "I was just wondering if maybe you were sorry you had married me."
"Micah, why would you think that?"
"There are so many problems ahead of us, so many things that can go wrong. I never realized how much my presence would complicate your life."
"Micah…"
"What if the child needs a doctor? How will you explain the odd composition of his blood, the difference in his body temperature?"
"I don't know." Lainey threaded her fingers through his. "Let's not look for trouble. Maybe the baby won't get sick. Maybe no abnormalities will show up in his blood or anywhere else." Tenderly, she caressed his cheek with her free hand. "I love you, Micah. Nothing will change that."
SUNLIGHT, MOONLIGHT Page 20
