by J. D. Dexter
“I admit, I got a little freaked out when I saw that, and I might, or might not, have shaken you. Your smile faded into a frown, but I knew I was getting through to you. So, I started moving you all around. It was like you were suspended from the ceiling, just hanging there. I pinched you, slapped you, kissed you. Nothing worked. And then I had the grand idea to see if my mind could find yours by following the tinsel inside your mind.” His speech finally begins to slow down. His throat must be dry because I can hear his swallow, and it sounds painful.
“You found me, Hunter. You saved us both,” I tell him. I clench my limbs around him, pulling him tighter and tighter into the haven of my body.
“But I almost lost you. I still don’t know what happened that you had to tinsel me.” His chuckle is weak, but tells me the storms have mostly passed.
“We walked through a blue net thingy.” I brush the hair back from his face. “You fell against me and became unresponsive really quickly. When I laid you on the floor and used the Spectrum, I saw that your nervous system has started to fracture. Like tiny fissures and cracks. The nerves around your heart were barely glowing, and the ones from your brain were sluggishly pulsing.” I feel the terror flood my body once again. “I thought I was losing you. You were in my arms and you were just fading away.” My own tears burst forth, all of the past trauma pushing its way inside my brain once again.
He rolls again, leaving me on top, my knees straddling his waist. I’m curled around him, his big body the foundation I never thought to wish for. He bends his knees, cradling me as much as possible while both of us are laying on the ground. He murmurs soft comforting things in my ears, as he rubs my back.
We’re both exhausted. Our tears dry up and our breathing evens out. I know my heart is both full and a little cracked. I’m starting to drift off when it sounds like another door opens at the far side of the room.
My eyes pop open—I hadn’t even been aware that I’d closed them—and meet the wide eyes of dark chocolate starkly looking back at me. Both of us begin to untangle, a writhing mix of arms, legs, and curses. We manage to get to our feet. I feel a little light-headed at the sudden change in posture, and sway just a little bit. Hunter’s arm encircles my shoulders, pulling me into the shelter of his body.
“I see we’ve made it back to the land of the living,” A tiny woman, who honestly looks more like a teenager trying too hard to look grown up, says.
She barely makes it to my boobs, let alone my shoulders, making her right around five feet, maybe a shade less. Her arms akimbo as her fists prop on her hips, her toe tapping in a pair of shiny black shoes. Her silver hair gleams under the encased lights in the ceiling, bringing to mind Hunter’s description of my energy. Not silver as in she looks old, but pure sterling silver.
Her clothing is all black, making her porcelain skin look even more washed out in the bright room. Her eyebrows are an incongruous black, her eyelashes matching. Her eyes are a deep soul-stealing black. There is no discernable white in her eyes, just black from corner to corner.
Dear Lord, protect us from Satan’s minions, I pray silently.
“I’m not a minion, and certainly not one of Satan’s. That was a little rude,” She huffs at me.
“You can read my mind.” I make it a statement, figuring there’s really no question.
“Indeed, I can. I can also read your handsome mate’s mind as well.” Her smile looks more creepy than endearing.
I let the ‘mate’ business slide right on by – for now.
“Where are we?” I look around, trying to figure out if we’re still in the basement of the FBI.
Her laughter sounds like tiny windchimes blowing in a gentle breeze. “Where do you think you are?” she asks.
“Last I knew, we were in the basement of the FBI,” I say hesitantly.
“Of course not, dear.” Her word choices don’t match her appearance. She talks like she’s in her late-eighties or early-nineties, from a different era altogether. Her appearance would place her at about thirteen with too much knowledge in her eyes.
“Then where are we?” Hunter demands.
“Ankarrah.” A brilliant smile graces her smooth features.
“Where’s Ankarrah?” Hunter’s not playing around.
“We’ll get to that. But first, I have to wonder, where have you been, Fyndrexia?” she asks. Her foot resumes tapping impatiently on the floor, her arms now crossed over her prepubescent chest.
My heart stutters at the name. I barrel on. “Where’s Ankarrah?” I ask, two can play the non-answer game.
“Somewhere you’ve forgotten. Where have you been?” she asks testily.
“Living my life.” I look around. Something about how she’s asking me where I’ve been brings back the eerie doll voice when I tried to get into Josh’s head.
“You’ve talked to me before, haven’t you?” I ask her.
“Yes, dear. I was afraid you had forgotten once again.” She gives me a pout that looks really disturbing on her young face with her old eyes.
“Why do you know who I am?” I ask, not really sure if I want to know the answer.
“Well, I’m your mother, dear.” She gives me a saucy wink.
Then disappears. No fade out, no puff of smoke, just straight up gone between one blink of an eye and the next.
Chapter Twenty-Five
A slight ringing fills my ears in the silent room. I shake my head.
“Okay. Please tell me that creepy old lady stuck in the body of teenager didn’t just say she was my mother. I mean, really, that’s just silly.” I can hear the hysteria building in my voice. “There’s no way she could be my mother; she’s, like, thirteen. And I’m clearly much older than that.” I plead with Hunter, my hands fisted in his scrubs, slowly pulling his face closer and closer to my own.
“That’s what she said, Finley,” he says gently.
“You know, I think there’s something wrong with the sound in here, because you just said that that woman said she was my mother too. Maybe I’m still sleeping in the Spectrum. Yup, that’s got to be it.” I uncurl my fingers from Hunter’s clothes, and move to lay back down on the floor.
“Baby, what are you doing?” He sounds scared.
“I’m going to lay back down, so that when I wake up for real this time, I won’t fall and hit my head.”
What a silly question.
Hunter stops all of my movement by picking me up into his arms. He wraps my legs around his waist, and angles us towards a wall. My back rests between the hard wall behind me and the hard wall of muscle in front of me.
Hunter’s eyes look at mine intently. Apparently, not finding what he’s looking for, he tips my chin back, and gently lays his lips against mine.
Immediately, I’m focused on the man cradling my body. Everything I saw of him while in the Spectrum is even better when I can touch, stroke, and feel him. He makes me laugh, holds me when I cry, comforts me during a mental breakdown, and seems to just want to be with me. I’ve never had that before.
I can feel him calming me with his mouth, drinking away my anxiety as he nibbles on my lips. Everything floats away from my mind, leaving me alone with Hunter. Feeling him against me, supporting my body.
I pull him closer to me, actively participating instead of only taking solace. I wrap my hands in his hair and try to climb his body. The delicious scent of him fills my nose, making me slide my nose up and down his throat. He tilts his head to the side to give me more access.
He seems to finally notices the change in me and wraps his hands under my butt, hoisting me just a little bit higher. The hard ridge of him nestles against the softness of my core. Both of our low groans fill the space, heating it with our shared breath.
“Finley.” His teeth a sharp counterpoint to the heat softening my body, nipping at my neck, biting my earlobe.
Overwhelming my senses, Hunter is the only thing I can breathe, feel, taste, and see. I pull back just a little bit, catching his heated gaze with mine. �
��Tell me what you want,” I whisper. “Tell me how to make you happy.”
“It would make me happy for you two to separate. Honestly, children these days.” The shrill voice throws a bucket of cold water onto the flames that had burst between us.
Hunter’s head falls to mine. We struggle to catch our breath. I’m unsure what to do with all of our pent-up desire.
“I’m waiting.” Maybe Mommy taps her tiny foot against the floor, the rhythm impatient.
I unhook my legs, letting them slide along the outside of Hunter’s thighs. The added friction doing nothing to help me quiet those flames. I bite my lip to keep my low moan on the inside. Hunter doesn’t bother with hiding his passion, instead vocalizing his hunger as my center glides along his arousal. I fidget under the added onslaught. Hunter’s growls and moans reignites the flames building in my core.
“Holy crap, Fin, please stop moving,” he pleads, his voice strangled.
I try to hold as still as possible, doing my best to ignore the tremors shaking through my limbs, the quaking of my insides. “Sorry.”
“Children. I do not have all day. Please disengage. This instant.” She really does sound like a mother.
That piercing voice tamps out the remainder of my craving, leaving me feeling like a wrung-out wash rag.
“We’re getting there,” Hunter growls at her. His lower body pulls back from mine, taking his heat with him. The lack of heat has goosebumps prickling along my skin.
Hunter and I adjust our clothing before turning.
The woman standing in front of us is not the tween from earlier. This woman has pearlescent skin, hickory colored hair, and stands as tall as I do. The only thing in common with the woman from before is her eyes. Her eyes are still a full black landscape. It’s difficult to even know where to look in her eyes.
“Um. Nice make over,” I offer.
“Thank you. You seemed unsettled by my previous form, hence I changed into something more suitable.”
Yeah, because nothing says mom like a sexpot image.
“I have no idea what a sexpot is. Does this mean you find this form distasteful as well?” Her exasperation is a living thing.
Hunter’s snort tells me he’s enjoying himself. She comes to stand in front of me, her motion as graceful as flowers moving in a breeze. She makes no noise on the floor as she walks, and she smells oddly of nutmeg and lemon.
We’re standing nose to nose. She obviously has no concept of personal space because she keeps leaning in towards me. My shuffling backwards has no effect except to bring her even further into my space.
I finally hold out my hands, catching her shoulders to keep her from getting so close. “You really need to work on social cues. I keep stepping back because you’re standing too close,” I inform her hotly. This lady is straight up crazy-pants.
“Ah.” She nods her head, and keeps her distance when I scoot back once more. “I am willing to make adjustments, Daughter. I simply need to know that they are necessary.”
“Why do you keep saying I’m your daughter?” I’m getting a little irritated with this woman.
“You are a product of my womb. Is this concept unclear to you?” Her head tilts to the side, her features stuck between surprise and outrage.
“No, I’m really clear on the idea of where babies come from. No need to worry on that score.” I shake my head at her. “However, my parents—George and Alice—said they adopted me from an agency in Kansas.”
“Kansas,” she repeats the word like she’s never heard it before.
“Yes, a state in the middle of the United States of America.” This woman is the mayor of crazy town.
“I see.” She stares at me. “What is the United States of America?” She sounds sincere.
I’m about to freak the eff out if she doesn’t quit pulling this crap.
“A country of people in the northern hemisphere…on Earth.” I can hear the strain in my own voice. Surely, she knows what I’m talking about.
“I’ve never been to Earth. What’s it like?” she asks, but like she’s trying more to be polite than in any interest in learning about it.
“Let me get this right. We’re in Ankarrah, wherever that is. You have never been to Earth. I’m guessing then, with my excellent intellectual skills, that Ankarrah is not on Earth.” I can hear the pleading in my own voice.
Hunter must have heard it to, since he comes around and pulls me into the shelter of his body, once again protecting me.
This guy melts my heart.
“I would assume melting hearts is a bad thing. Why did you sound like it was something to enjoy?” Maybe Mommy asks, head tilted to the side once again.
“You really need to stop poking through my mind. It’s rude. Especially when you say everything out loud.” Sheesh, parents, the urge to embarrass their children must be universal.
Mentally, I stumble over what I just admitted to myself. Something about this woman—at least in this form—is somehow familiar to me.
“Excuse me, I thought you were sharing your thoughts with me.” She dips her head contritely. I’m pretty sure this woman has never been castigated in her life.
“No, I wasn’t.” I try hard not to snip at her.
“What was this about melting hearts?” Hunter asks, a whimsical tone in his voice. He looks at me with a twinkle in his eye.
“She said, ‘this guy melts my heart.’ I wondered why melting hearts would be a good thing, as it sounds counter-indicative to health and wellness,” she says, sounding like she’s teaching kindergartners.
“She melts my heart, too.” He kisses my hair as my cheeks go up in flames.
“Back to the matter at hand…Ankarrah. Where is it?” I ask, wanting to get a good, solid answer this time.
“Ankarrah is Earth-adjacent,” she replies slowly, like I’m the slow kid in the kindergarten class.
I just stare at her, my mind blank.
“Uh huh. And, because I understand what that means, could you please tell Hunter what that means?” I throw him under the bus, trying to give my mind time to catch up.
Maybe Mommy graces me with a tight-lipped smile. I’m pretty sure she’s just humoring me at this point. “Of course.” She turns to address Hunter more fully. “Ankarrah is very similar to Earth. However, the areas in which we differ are quite drastic, such as using the Psy-Matrix, telepathy, and other various gifts. We are Earth-adjacent due to our place in the Multi-Verse. Our closest neighbor, in your universe, is Earth.” She gives another patronizing smile.
“Of course. Thank you for teaching me.” Hunter gives her a thousand-watt smile. She gives him a smile that is the most sincere I’ve seen from her.
Go figure, he wins over all the moms.
She simply snickers this time, instead of asking for clarification or remarking on my mental comment.
I give her a glare. She just lifts her eyebrows at me – a, ‘what? I just did what you asked me to do’ look.
“How did Finley and I happen to be in Ankarrah?” Hunter asks solicitously.
“I have people on Earth.” The implied Duh is quite loud.
“Undoubtedly. Why are Finley and I in Ankarrah?” He’s sounds like his patience is beginning to fray.
“Because I have been waiting for her.” A straight non-answer.
“Look…wait, what is your name?” I ask her, my hands going to my hips.
She looks so pleased. “You can call me mother.” She graciously waves her hand at me, as if bestowing a great honor upon me, a humble servant.
“Yeah.” I shake my head firmly. “No. I have a mother. Remember, I told you about her. Her name’s Alice. Have a second option?” I try again.
She looks livid for a moment. Then the emotion is wiped from her face as if it were never there. It’s a little scary how quickly she was able to conceal her emotions. Now she looks thoughtful, her beautiful face pensive.
“How about Your Majesty.” She nods her head regally.
She’s got some
brass ones, I’ll give her that. “Unless you’re the freaking queen around here, that’s not going to work either. I was thinking something like Jen, or Felicia, or Anthony, or Benjamin. You know? A human being name.”.
She just looks at me like she’s sad she shares DNA with me.
Silence fills the space with the cloying scent of idiot drifting on the air.
“Oh. You are the queen.” I finally get around to it.
“Indeed.” The dryness of her tone scrapes against my skin like a cheese grater.
“Well, Your Majesty, do you have an actual name—not a title—that I could call you?”
“Our native language is difficult to master and sounds atrocious from Earth mouths. You may call me Benjamin.”
Hunter and I both chuckle out loud.
A look of barely restrained rage flits across her features. “You dare to laugh at me?” Her eyebrows pull low over her eyes, her eyes glinting in challenge and reprimand.
“Sorry. Benjamin is a masculine name where we are from. I was trying to give you examples of real names, I didn’t mean for you to choose a man’s name though. Although, I could see the confusion. I apologize.” I bow my head in apology.
When I look back up, she is grinning at me. This woman’s moods are going to give me whiplash.
“You are forgiven.”
“What name were you given at birth from your own parents?” Trying a different path to the same end.
“Ah, I see. You may call me Anixia.” She’s got the regal head nod down pat.
“Great, Anixia. Nice to meet you. Please call me Finley.” I suggest.
“I will not. That was not the name you were given at birth, it is not the name I will call you,” she says indignantly.
“Well, I’ve gotten used to it after thirty years, so if you call me something else, I probably won’t answer because I won’t recognize it.” I give her a shrug. She can either call me by my name or not call me anything.
