Birthmarked

by Maria Violante

  The teacher for Driver’s Training is back early—so you have plans after training with Shawn.

  Buckner.

  I flipped the note over. On the back was a small map and a few notes he must have thought I’d find useful. I glanced up at the clock. Guess I better get ready.

  I sat up—and immediately regretted the action. My entire midsection burst into fireworks. I gasped and rolled the best I could, but the second my feet hit the ground, I fell back into bed. Maybe I could just get five more minutes in. The gentle support of the mattress was bliss, and—

  There was a thump at the door, and I jumped, flinching in a hiss as the pain hit me a second later. This was obviously going to ruin my day to no end. “Come in.”

  Hope it’s not locked, because there’s no freaking way I’m going to answer it.

  “Breakfast.”

  My head snapped up as I recognized the voice. A second later, Shawn came in holding a tray, a grin threatening to emerge at the corners of his lips. The tray was heaped high with everything a person could possibly want for breakfast—eggs, toast, oatmeal, bacon, sausages. The odors hit me all at once, and my mouth instantly started dripping. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if I was awake or dreaming—and if I was, would this qualify as a sex dream? It sure felt like one. My stomach did a nervous—although not altogether unpleasant—flip.

  He brought the tray down to the height of my face, and I had to stifle a moan. The smell of bacon grease was like manna from heaven, the most amazing, appetizing thing I had ever experienced. An alarm bell went off in my head—was this some kind of trick?

  My gaze found his, but like always, I couldn’t exactly read his expression. I saw the glint of the fork on the corner of the tray, and I reached out quickly to grab it, before he could change his mind.

  And then, of course, I nearly dropped it in the wave of soreness that hit me—nearly. But my ham-fisted grip on the fork was for the cause, and I was going to fight for my right to breakfast.

  At my grimace, Shawn’s eyebrows vaulted up. “Hey, small movements there. Your body is recuperating and you still need to get used to things. I’m going to give you the day off.”

  I snorted, a forkful of eggs half-way to my mouth. Wow, how generous. If you hadn’t worked me so hard yesterday, we wouldn’t be in this mess.

  He grinned again, as if he could read my mind, and I felt my anger simmer just a little. After all, he had brought me this gorgeous breakfast.

  “What’s with the grub today? Is it a holiday?” I took my first bite and moaned as the buttery-soft goodness exploded across my taste buds. Someone had scrambled them, and they were perfectly light and fluffy, and loaded with fixings. I tasted potatoes, sautéed onions, mushrooms, and oh yes, cheese, heavenly cheese. Oh, God yes. I’m a fat girl at heart, Tex. A fat girl at heart.

  “No. It’s just what I felt you needed.”

  I paused in the middle of my chewing and looked up. The very tip of his tongue flicked out of the corner of his mouth, but only for a moment, as if in reflex. Was he hungry? Better stay away, bud. “Whadew thawn I neeger?” The words were muffled, and a tiny piece of egg might have dripped back onto the plate. He grimaced while I swallowed—oh, God yes—“What you thought I needed? You make it sound like you cooked it.” I grabbed a piece of bacon and ripped off the end in single satisfying motion.

  At his little smile, though, I paused again in my chewing and swallowed, my brain’s sudden lack of attention hardly doing the bacon grease justice. “Oh God.”

  “What?” His eyebrows came up again. Although he didn’t have the most handsome face, his eyebrows somehow made up for it.

  “You cooked this, didn’t you?” I dropped the fork on the tray as if he had somehow betrayed me.

  “I—”

  “Are you trying to poison me?” I picked the fork back up and jabbed it at him, trying to ignore the way the sudden motion brought tears to my eyes.

  “No, I just—I thought you’d appreciate a good breakfast.”

  I squinted. “What is everybody else eating?”

  He cleared his throat and looked to one side. I half expected him to whistle.

  “Well?”

  He shrugged. “Oatmeal?”

  My mouth fell open again, and I looked down at the feast in front of me. “Why would you do this?” Even if it is poison—jeez, it’s so good. Maybe it would be worth the dying.

  “I just . . . I felt bad. I was a little hard on you yesterday.”

  I wavered. Was his admission of guilt authentic? Was it a good enough reason to—oh God, these eggs smelled so good—and bacon—screw it. I picked up the fork again, surprised by the way he brightened at the sight.

  “Oh, and Jeff said you might want these.” He held his hand out and dropped two pink pills on my tray.

  I regarded them. “I knew you were trying to—”

  “Relax, they’re just ibuprofen. The Order doesn’t usually allow medication of any kind, unless it’s necessary and life-saving. But . . . I guess Jeff wants to bend the rules for you a little.” He indicated the glass of orange juice—oh God, how had I not even tried the orange juice yet?

  I took the pills in my hand and stared at them. On one hand, I was really, really sore. On the other hand, I didn’t want special treatment. I put them back down on the tray.

  I tucked back into the food and demolished a few more good bites before I realized how quiet it was. When I looked up, he was staring at me with an odd expression that made me reconsider this whole poisoning thing.

  “What? What is it?”

  “It’s just . . . you’ve got Range training today.”

  “It’s like driver’s ED, right? I’m not really worried—I was top of my academy class.”

  “It’s a little different than that, but I’m sure you’ll do fine. It’s just . . ." He looked away again. “The driver . . . he can be somewhat . . . manipulative. You should be careful around him. It’s really hard to know what he’s thinking.”

  Look who’s talking. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Something flickered in the back of my head, and I paused. “What exactly do you mean?”

  Shawn pressed his lips together into a line, the edges turning white. Something was fishy here. “Sorry, but I have somewhere I need to be. I’m going to let you finish this meal in peace.”

  He strode out, giving me one quick glance of his perfect butt, and then I was alone with my breakfast.

  I sighed. I actually kind of wanted his company, but I had the feeling once I finished my meal, I might get interested in a different sort of appetite, and I was kind of done embarrassing the crap out of myself for the week.

  I looked down to a pair of sad, imploring eyes. Diesel’s manners in front of Shawn had been impeccable, but with the man gone, the dog had no more qualms. He pawed once at my leg, his long pink tongue running around his lips, and whined pitifully.

  “Oh, all right.”

  I threw a piece of bacon onto the floor to give myself time to slurp down a couple more bites.

  Compared to training with Shawn, finding the driving range proved a snap. For starters, it was outside. It was also the only flat, open space around the compound not covered in fender to fender trucks. Of course, I wouldn’t have known either of those if the gate guard hadn’t taken a shine to me and pointed me in the right direction.

  I whistled, my bacon-set mood improving even more. I had a good meal in my belly, Shawn was being less of an ass, and best of all, while my propio-whatever might be off, my ability to drive a truck wasn’t. I had aced every single class at the academy, waltzing my trailer backward around blind corners when most guys were still on straight backing. This was going to be a snap.

  When I got close enough, I spotted the instructor. The glare on the windshield was enough that I couldn’t make out his features, but from his reclined posture, I assumed he was either napping or listening to the radio. I walked up to the driver’s door, knocked, and took a step back.

  T
he door swung open almost instantly and down stepped an angel.

  I mean it. This guy was attractive in a way that made both Luke and Shawn looked like they should be feeding out of the bottom of a pond somewhere. It was as if sunlight rejoiced in dancing through his blonde hair and kissing his lightly-tanned skin. He turned away, and my disappointment at losing sight of his green eyes was more than rectified by the way his body flexed as he came down from his truck.

  I could feel my face turning red, but I didn’t have to try hard to turn my thoughts away from sex. No, instead, I could already see our future unwinding together. We would be secret operatives, spies, a forbidden romance that threatened both of our lives, but he loved me too much to give up.

  He reached the bottom and turned around. “Hi.”

  I snapped out of my trance. He held out a hand, and I took it, trying to ignore the way bolts of electricity were now shooting through my entire body. “I’m Joseph.” His eyes sparkled, bright and warm, and my heart melted in my chest.

  “Of course you are,” I murmured. It was a perfect name for a perfect guy.

  He arched single, perfectly-formed brow. “I don’t get it.”

  Crap! I coughed and took a big breath. “Sorry, must have been thinking aloud.”

  “Okay.” He gave me another stunning smile, innocent and open, but with a hint of naughty rogue somewhere underneath, and I felt myself melt all over again. He really was perfect—wide, full, luscious lips with a delicate cupid’s bow, eyes that twinkled with every expression on his face. “You can let go of my hand now.”

  I glanced down—oh God, he was right. I dropped his hand—maybe with a little more force than was necessary—and tried to look casual. Oh, and to stop my heart from exploding.

  “So . . . are you ready?”

  “Ready for anything you want to do.” Christ, Charlie. Rein it in a little, won’t ya?

  He chuckled. “Okay. Well, you’re driving.”

  He tossed the keys up. Too late, I went to catch them. They plopped into my chest, and in one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, they stayed there, right on top of my boobs. My stomach wasn’t the only thing swollen with the extra pounds.

  I tried to laugh and snatched them up. I intended to saunter leisurely over to the driver’s side but found myself speed-walking. Safe from view, I tried to put the key in—and missed—and then tried again and managed to turn it. It made a satisfying click.

  I yanked at the door, but it didn’t budge, and my muscles weren’t ready for this kind of treatment. From my fingertips, all the way through my abs and down into my legs—they all exploded at once in a firestorm of angry protest.

  “I think you locked it!”

  I cringed at the muffled yell. If I couldn’t even get the door open, how could he trust me to actually drive the thing?

  I put the key back in and turned it. After smoothing my hair back a few times, I climbed up in the most delicate way I could—which is not at all. Seriously, there is no sexy way for a short woman to climb into a truck, except for maybe naked, and even then, you either look like you’re rappelling down a mountain in reverse or like you’re bending over for an exam. Neither one is particularly flattering. I was glad that he wasn’t going to watch me scramble up from behind.

  But when I finally got into my seat, I was blown away enough that, for just a moment, I forgot the angel sitting next to me. The seat itself was super-nice—it was pneumatic, worth several thousand dollars at least, and my butt instantly felt supported and cradled by a soft cloud. I wiggled into it a little, loving the way it adapted to my form.

  And in front of me? The Kenworth looked nice from the outside, but inside, this thing was pure luxury. I had more knobs than I could count, all of them inlaid with the same gorgeous wood-grain that made up most of the dash. There was a tasteful assortment of chrome, perfectly polished, and when I glanced back into the cab, I was greeted with a queen bed.

  Whoa. Nobody I knew had anything over a twin. Maybe he wants to share?

  Bad Charlie! Bad!

  “Got yourself all familiarized now, I take it?”

  I didn’t think it was possible to blush any more, but the husky drop in his smoky voice instantly had all of my engines roaring. “Yes, I think so. It’s a beauty of a truck.”

  “I know.” He gave me a quick smile, a picture-perfect, model’s smile. “I picked it out myself. We’ve all got certain guidelines we have to follow, but if you get to a certain position or you know the right people, you’re offered a little leeway.”

  I was impressed. When it came to the Order, everyone of influence I had so far run into struck me as rigid. Joseph must have certainly have had some pull if he was allowed leeway in his choice of equipment. An influential man. Yum.

  I mean, I didn’t think even Buckner couldn’t do that.

  My wishy-washy ex had never been so far from my mind as in this moment. Luke, who?

  “So, just to make sure we cover our bases, I’m going to start with watching you in some basic maneuvers.”

  I had to stifle a groan. The innuendo was perfect. “Okay.”

  “And then, assuming that goes all right, we’ll start picking up speed on the range, working on some more complicated stuff, and giving it a little power to see how you handle it.”

  I shivered. Yes, give it some power please. “Okay.”

  “And if that works out well, we’ll work on obstacles. I want to see how well you deal with impact and force.”

  By this point, I was panting, but the perverted visions in my head suddenly relented for a moment. “Okay—wait, what? Did you say impact?”

  Joseph gave me another grin, a little more devilish than the last, and about ten times as sexy. “Yup. I’m sure you noticed the moose-guard on the front?”

  I had, but I ran Canada. The reinforced cage on the bumper was nothing new to me, although I had my doubts on how well one of those things would stand up to an actual moose. My first day in Canada, Rhonda explained to me that honking the air horn at a moose meant I would have to find a new truck. I took that lesson to heart.

  “Well, it’s been specially reinforced. Look, I'm not here to teach you how to operate a vehicle under normal conditions. My first job is to teach you to go against your instincts when you need to, to break you out of the habits that could get you killed. You're going to learn to purposely hit a target, to overbalance—to flip your truck if need be.”

  “Ah.” My mind flashed to overturned tanker. “Like to block the road.”

  “Possibly, but that isn’t the main reason. Some of the creatures we have to deal with are fast and large—like, you know, elephant-sized. Others are small and fairly weak but operate through a connected external neural net—”

  I tried to make it look like my eyes weren’t glazing over.

  “—which means that alone, they pose no threat, but they don’t travel that way. Some of the packs of Lahlagh get so big the only way to take them on is to bulldoze your way through, get a safe distance away, and take them out with long-range weapons.”

  “Lah—”

  “They’re like little, furry black gnomes. They’re nasty, small, and brutish.”

  “Ah.”

  “On top of that, you’re going to have to learn how to manage your cargo. Generally, only our best drivers all called upon to transport cargo or creatures that have been put in cryo-freeze, or to do body clean-up—”

  Just like that, all of the heat drained out of me, and my mind filled with the sudden image of dark green Kenworths cruising down highways, their trailers full of dead bodies and bubbler popsicles.

  He gave me a level look and rested a hand on my arm, and I almost jumped. While Buckner had given me some verbal support, and Chris a little food-related kindness, literally nobody had offered a kind touch since I arrived here.

  And God, I so wanted this man to touch me.

  “Don’t worry. Like I said, it’s only our best drivers who are asked to do something like that, unless the
re is a huge emergency. We are smart here. We let people do what they do best. That said, you have to understand what everybody’s job is, so that you can anticipates needs, interpret commands, and work as a team.”

  I still felt hesitant about the whole thing, but it was hard to hold onto my nerve when he stared at me, his green eyes filling up with kindness and sympathy, his soft and yet somehow iron-hard voice caressing my ears. I felt my pulse drop with every word he said and with every breath I took. This man was truly magic.

  “All right. So what do we do first?”

  I stared down Training Range 1, which was roughly the size of a football field, with a lump of stone growing in my throat. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “It’s easy. You have to trust me.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t, but—” I waved at the pole at the end. It looked like a standard telephone pole—which, from my understanding, were sunk into the ground with concrete and would provide a really hard landing. A piece of paper was wrapped around it, and on the paper was a black outline, like the chalk ones you see on the pavement for a homicide, except that this outline was clearly not of a human. “You know, I was recently in a pretty bad accident, and I don’t ah . . . I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “You’re just going to have to trust me. It’s a disrespect to—”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know. I’ve heard that one before.” I coughed once, and after staring at my hands and up again at the poster-pole, I held in the clutch and turned the key. The engine roared to life with a pleasant bass that sent a shiver up my spine—because, wow, how come I never got to drive one of these babies for FLEX? I released the brakes and almost, almost shifted it out of neutral.

  “Do it.” Joseph’s sexy voice didn’t help. I was rooted to the spot.

  “I can’t.”

  “All right.” He reached over pulled the knob for the air brakes, and they locked with a hiss. “That’s too bad. I was hoping that we’d get to know each other better.”

  “What do you mean?” It sounded like he’d be leaving—and I’d be damned if I wanted him to leave.