by Rena Marks
“But I should not have forgotten you! I forgot our love.”
“You didn’t choose to. Your brain was damaged beyond belief. They killed you, Steele. If not for the Quinteah your bodies produce that we re-introduced, you’d be a vegetable right now. My biggest fear? What if you and I hadn’t talked about Quinteah? What if I hadn’t decided to try it on you four? Later, on me and Amanda? Where would we all be today? Still in that facility being experimented on? Would they have killed us all and be starting a new batch of innocent Xeno Sapiens with government funding?” She shuddered.
“You averted that ending. It’s okay. No need to worry yourself and our baby. Come, let’s get out of this bunker and go explore the new land you created for us.”
She nodded, and he rolled from the warmth of her body. He pulled her up easily, kissing her before letting her go.
Chapter Nine
Outside, there wasn’t a single soul in the vast distance. Normally the Xeno Sapiens liked to spread out across the territory and explore. But they hadn’t ventured this far yet. The valley Steele and Robyn walked through was lush and colorful. Nothing like the island where they’d lived. That had a commercial beauty, a planned tropical paradise. This land was the center of Earth-Ground, raw, natural, and awe-inspiring.
“Up ahead should be a hill,” Steele said. He’d been studying the property maps while she napped. The hill had a small trail they traveled along. Even with that, Robyn was out of breath. She had the niggling feeling that maybe her pregnancy wasn’t as easy as she imagined it should be. She shouldn’t be tired this early on. Steele was right. She’d have to get Amanda to give her a thorough exam as soon as they returned.
“Are you all right?” Steele asked.
“Just a bit winded,” she said. The last thing she wanted was for him to worry. When they reached the top of the hill, they could stare for miles around as far as the eye could see. She stood stock-still, the skirt of her yellow sundress flapping in the breeze. Steele brought his arm around her shoulders, and she wrapped her arm around his waist. She breathed deeply, taking in as much oxygen as she could as she studied their surroundings.
Where the horizon met the sky, brilliant colors stroked the sky in thick, deliberate strikes; pinks, purples, yellow, red, even dark gray. But the grass on the ground was a heavy, dark green, and spots of purple and yellow colored areas rose in large clusters where wildflowers grew.
It was spectacular and took her breath away. To go from the recycled air of an underground laboratory to complete, utter freedom. Earth as it should be without technology and buzzing drones everywhere.
“Did you know how beautiful this land was when you bought it?” Steele asked. His voice rumbled against her ear as he pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Of course. I’m able to hack into every available record. I knew exactly what this land contained.” She grinned. “And then I deleted the notations of available water sources and landmarks, and bought it cheap.” Then she sobered. “None of the floating cities have this much unrefined beauty. Here, it’s stark and natural. The cities are beautiful but man-made. They’re almost too perfect in an overly manicured way.”
“You always preferred real land. Earth-Ground.”
“Always. My mother hated it. It made us seem like common folk, and she had much bigger designs in store.”
It was windier at the top of the hill, and Robyn’s dark hair fluttered wildly as a gust picked up.
“Come. We can head down this way. The trail is narrow but not as steep as the one we just climbed.”
It was much narrower. She had to walk behind him on the way down, which was kind of nice. She was able to stare at his ass the whole time.
“I know what you’re doing,” he said, his voice low and rumbly. Sexy.
“What am I doing?”
“Counting my fingers.” Holding them over his ass, he wiggled them. “There’s eight.”
Her burst of laughter bubbled out before she could stop it. He looked over his shoulder at her, his dark eyes gleaming. “Keep your eyes on the trail,” he mock-growled.
At the bottom was the water source she’d managed to hack from the records. During the construction of the city, she’d had sand built up around the water edges for a beach-like consistency.
She kicked off her shoes and sat right there on the sun-kissed sand that was gently warmed. The water rocked in small waves, lapping against the sand but unable to reach them. Following her example, Steele kicked off his shoes and sat behind her, his hand warm on her abdomen.
ROBYN SAT IN FRONT of him, her back against his chest, his long legs spread wide around her.
“What makes the waves?” he asked.
“The water rushes from upground. A creek. It empties into this larger area.”
He was forever thankful to have this small woman, this gorgeous, intelligent human, as his. The mother of his child, the savior of his people.
“Pax and I are working on a project,” Steele said, his hand warm on the barely swelling ridge of their son. She had no idea, but there was a small consciousness he could feel as long as his hand was in contact. The baby’s thoughts were of warmth and comfort. Happiness. A feeling bubbled over from his mother as she enjoyed the stark beauty of her creation, Xenia.
It was important to keep Robyn peaceful, in a state of bliss.
“What kind of project?” she asked, placing her hand over his.
“It’s fascinating. A paint, or similar type of coating for metal, that would hide the object from visual spectrum light. In effect, rendering the object invisible to the eye. The premise behind the idea is to bend light. Further tests would tell us if it is also invisible to radar if applied to a stealth project.”
Robyn was quiet. “That is fascinating. And here I thought the eyeglasses that work as binoculars were amazing. Are those ready yet?”
“Very nearly. We’ll bring them to you to test as soon as we can. The paint product will enable us to sneak out of Xenia and explore the world in an invisible car. We can test it on the premises, attaching a flag to the vehicle to mark where it’s at. Can you imagine how many of our big oafs will stumble into it if it isn’t marked?” His tone was dry, and it caused another quick bark of laughter to emit from her.
Beneath his palm, he could feel their infant’s heartbeat. It was strong, steady. A burst of love shot from the tiny being upon hearing his mother’s laugh. Steele wondered briefly if it should be this strong. Hell, what was he thinking? How many people complained that their baby had a strong heartbeat? It was just so unusual, to think that the genes of his people could be combined with that of the humans.
Naturally. Without any help from technology.
From behind her, it was easy to zone out when Renegade touched his mind to his. Is Robyn relaxed and happy?
Happy enough for our infant to thrive. His consciousness is aware. It is fascinating. Would you like to try and meld?
Of course!
Steele concentrated, trying to strengthen the link between father and son while his link was open to Renegade.
I—I can feel him, Renegade said, the surprise shining through. It’s so faint, but definitely another consciousness. Comfortable in his womb...and happy. Nurtured.
Yes.
Have you told Robyn yet?
No.
Don’t. Amanda and Irina have both mentioned that human women are not considered safe until they reach twelve weeks of pregnancy. You don’t want her to get too attached until then.
That is a good point. He remembered how dreaming of their deaths affected her still. He couldn’t imagine putting her through the pain of losing a child she’d grown to love.
Everything here is getting a bit stressed. Did Robyn ever return her mother’s calls?
I’m not sure. She never mentioned it if she did.
I don’t think she has. Her mother is calling constantly.
What do you mean by constantly?
She’s bordering on harassing. Amanda is putting
up with it because it is Robyn’s mother.
I’ll see if I can find out what’s going on.
Steele shut down the link to find Robyn resting comfortably against him. He hated to take her out of her happy zone so quickly, but perhaps he could make it up to her later. Robyn took a deep breath in, holding it as she leaned back, the sun on her face as she turned up to welcome the warmth.
“Robyn, why have you avoided returning your mother’s calls?” His voice was a whisper, near her ear. Calm.
She released the breath she had been holding. “My relationship with my mother is...complicated.”
“How so?”
She paused. How did one explain a parental relationship with someone who had no parents? He was fascinated to learn since he would be one soon.
“I don’t like my mother,” she said slowly. “Our personalities are completely different. There are also some things I resent her for.”
“Then why does she persist in calling you?”
“Well, because it’s expected. We’re family.”
He was confused and waited patiently for her to continue.
“When you have a family, you’re obligated to keep in contact with them. Usually, it’s socially unacceptable to acknowledge that you do not like them.”
“Does she know you do not like her?”
“Yes. And she doesn’t like me any more than I like her. But as mother and daughter, she feels obligated to pretend. It will cause too much drama in her life with her social ranking to have gossip unfold.”
“I have a hard time understanding why she would continue to call you when you do not accept her calls.”
“For one thing, it makes her appear a victim. She gets to whine to my brother—and to her trusted manservant—that I am the one being mean to her.”
“And those two do not understand she is not a victim?”
“No. She has them fooled. You see, my parents were a computer match. The best traits of two people are kept on file, and when you become of age to have children, the matchmaking computer pairs you with the person deemed most compatible with you. Lots of times, the couples fall in love over the years. In my parents’ case, it didn’t happen, and they divorced when I was six months old. My mother went on to marry another person, and my brother was born from that union a few years later.”
“You resent her for not staying with your own father?”
“No. I resent her for marrying him in the first place. The only reason why she accepted was because of his social status. He was Principe Phillip Saraven. Even after divorce, a female is allowed to keep her title and status. Once she climbed the rung of that ladder, it enabled her to marry another above her own social class. We were in that marriage for ten years or so until he died. At that point, my mother had attained a title attached to her name and a bit of wealth. She’d become used to that, so she used me as a tool to entice her first husband back. That was another resentment. I hated being used as a pawn between my parents.”
“Did it make your brother feel out of place to have a different father?”
“No. He was the apple of my mother’s eye by now. Usually, when one child is disagreeable to a parent’s wishes, the other is built up to be the favorite as a way to punish the first one. As far as the children are concerned, no one wishes to be the black sheep, so they do anything possible in order to retain the status. Including catering to the parent’s wishes, whether they are right or wrong.”
“So you and your brother are not close?”
“No. It grew worse upon my father’s death shortly after the re-marriage. His title should have become mine as his only natural offspring. Instead, as the children were both minors, my mother bypassed me and gave it to my brother.”
“How could she do that?”
“It was easy. I made it easy for her. I’d developed my alter persona, Eve, at that point. The only reason why I was discovered is my own mother reported me in order to have the ammunition to give my title away. For a while, she thought she’d won. However, I landed on my feet. While my title may have been given to my brother, I was offered a deal by the Global Government. They’d realized the computer abilities I had and offered to seal my records in return for the justice program we now enjoy. It is the first self-learning and self-repairing computer program. That and my gift for ever-changing encryption has made my program impossible to recreate. That made me a rather valuable commodity, and my mother realized it would be beneficial to her and her status to keep me on good terms with the family.”
“So she does not love you. She uses you.”
“Exactly. Though she pretends otherwise. So, no, I don’t feel bad for not returning her calls. I usually go for months, even a year or two, without communication. It’s only when she needs to put up a front that she begins to pretend we have a relationship.”
“And your brother?”
She shrugged. “Michael is the same golden child she believes he is.”
“Would you like to have your title back? I’m sure with your favorability now in creating Xenia that would be possible.”
“No, it no longer matters. The title never mattered to me. I prefer to live on Earth-Ground. It was more of the emotions attached. That was the one thing that should have been mine that was taken and given to another by my own mother. It’s the point of the matter.”
“What is your mother called?”
“Lady Glory Saraven. When I am in her presence, I’m referred to as Mistress Saraven. When I’m on my own, I prefer Robyn Saraven. When I take trips, I register and introduce myself as that. Simplistic, straightforward, and you get treated like a real person.”
“That is why you never cared to use the doctorate you earned,” he said.
She shrugged. “Probably. Titles just don’t mean anything to me.”
“And yet they mean everything to your mother.”
“Enough for me to wonder if the deaths of her husbands were natural.”
“What would your title have been upon your father’s death?”
She froze. Somehow, it had never occurred to this sweet woman before to think along this route. “As his only offspring, my title would have exceeded hers. I would have become Principessa Robyn Saraven. Not lady.” She closed her eyes, her thick, black eyelashes sweeping downward before she whispered, “That’s why she did it.”
Her own mother couldn’t stand to have her daughter rival her. Steele wrapped his arms tighter around her.
Robyn had transcended her mother long, long ago, title or not. And one day her mother would know exactly how far below her daughter she fell.
Chapter Ten
Robyn sucked in a breath.
“What is wrong?” Steele asked.
“I just realized...you’ve never seen a pregnant woman, have you?”
His hand had stilled on her abdomen. “No.”
She was so stupid, not to have realized how often he touched her stomach. He must have been trying to figure out what exactly happened during an infant’s gestation. His own offspring.
“With humans, we grow over a course of nine months. Give or take a few weeks. But it takes that long for our bodies to process creating a new being.”
“Grow?”
“The baby belly. Our bodies tend to store fat also. Soon this belly will look like I have a round ball under my shirt. Eventually it gets so full that it looks like I swallowed a pumpkin whole.”
“Your skin will stretch this easily?”
“Oh, yes. Depending upon genetics, there may be some marks from the stretched skin. They’ll fade over time, but never completely disappear.”
She felt his kiss on her shoulder.
“These marks are memories. Memories of our love that created a miracle.”
Another kiss closer to her neck made her shiver. Suddenly his hand felt so warm where it pressed on her midsection.
“What is this contraption called?” She felt his heated breath as he nudged aside the spaghetti strap, letting it fall over her shoul
der.
“It’s a sundress,” she said with a hitch. Her breathing grew deeper as the roll of his voice sent shivers down her spine.
“I like it.”
From his vantage point, he could easily see into the gap created by the slip of the strap sliding along her shoulder. The front of her dress dipped dangerously low across her cleavage. Beneath the thin dress, her nipples hardened. She wore no bra and the sensitive nubs rubbed against the soft cotton.
“You seem to be growing in other areas,” his voice rumbled against her ear. She could almost feel him looking down the front of her. Her breasts were indeed fuller, and looked like they wanted to burst free from the confines of the dress.
“Mmm...yes,” she yelped as his tongue traced up the cord in her neck.
“I think they want to feel the warmth of the sun also,” Steele whispered. With one hand, he reached out and unbuttoned the three buttons in front of her dress. He brushed aside one corner, so a breast escaped.
Her breath seemed to heave, her chest rising and falling.
“Beautiful.” His voice was thick with need, a need she understood all too well. The same need was unfurling inside her, deep inside a hidden spot between her legs. One silver finger traced the curve of her naked breast, making the pink nipple pucker as if longing for his touch. “I want you,” he whispered.
“Outside?”
“Why not?”
Both arms reached around her and unfastened the other buttons, one by one, all the way down the skirt. He spread the dress open so she was just in scant bikini panties. Long silver fingers traced her breastbone, her ribs, down the curve of her belly, to trace the edge of the elastic on her skimpy panties. The barest touch of his finger had her squirming, wanting to push back so his finger would dip inside the fabric.
“What do you need, my love?” he asked, his finger barely tracing the edge where her curls began.
“Touch me, dammit,” she begged.
Immediately his finger delved inside, tracing her slit, finding her wet. The sensation of his long finger skimming over her swollen clit made her moan. His finger was hidden from view beneath her panties, but the sensations weren’t masked at all. She felt every drop of her slick juice being spread over swollen, sensitive skin. She felt his finger circle her throbbing clit, the spot that ached with need.
