Mach One

by Elsa Jade

  He looked at her hands for a moment and then raised his gaze to hers. For a moment, she thought he was about to reveal something, the silver shimmer in his eyes strangely mesmerizing. “Cream or sugar? Honey?”

  She blinked. “Uh, black is fine.” She kept her gaze on the mug as he topped it off. Here she’d been reading all that wistful subtext into his words when probably all he wanted to do was keep her awake until the hatching.

  She tipped the mug to her lips to hide another blush, not caring that it was too hot. Brewed, the fragrance was even better than the beans. She let out a satisfied sigh. “High octane,” she said approvingly. “I’ll be good till lunch.”

  He drank his own, also black, without comment. She didn’t have a problem with quiet—also it was pushing four o’clock in the morning—so she drank her very good coffee and practiced one of a vet’s most crucial skills: sleeping while sitting up.

  But when Mach refilled her drained mug, she stirred. “Let’s check on the egg.”

  He didn’t move. Maybe he was tired too; anyway, he watched her through half-lidded silvery eyes. “You said it would be hours yet.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve found that with horses, cows, sheep, dogs, and guinea pigs, the exact moment I feel most relaxed is when they start popping out babies.” She rose, taking her mug with her. “You don’t have to…” He was right on her heels. “Okay, come along then.”

  Oddly, the dogs stayed behind. They clearly adored Mach, which said good things about his character, but they wanted nothing to do with the egg. Probably just as well. While many herding breed pups started their careers practicing on chickens and ducks, Mach wouldn’t want to risk a rare specimen.

  The bathroom was cozy, the humid air soft on her skin. Since they’d moved the infrared bulb into the shop lamp close to the egg, she didn’t bother turning on the overhead light. Instead, she shone her flashlight at an oblique angle across the shell.

  “Look,” she whispered, distracted from the inexplicably artificial looking web embedded in the calcite layers. “It’s pipped.”

  “Pipped?” He leaned next to her, his shoulder just brushing hers.

  “This little bump. That’s the first peck through the inner membranes and the shell to the outside world.” She turned her head to grin at him. “I think this little one is going to make it just fine.”

  He was so close her breath caught. Once again, she was mesmerized by the silver streaks in his eyes and the haunting scent of lightning.

  This…was stranger than everything else tonight. Or this morning, or whatever time it was. She didn’t just…get mesmerized by guys. Oh, she’d had her school dance dates and semi-serious relationships and occasional flings plus that one weekend in Phuket she’d always remember fondly—but mesmerized? Nah.

  Maybe it was like her sister claimed, that studying medicine (even though she wasn’t a “real” doctor like the rest of her family) took too much of the mystery out of attraction, making it all biology and chemistry and electrical impulses. Complex, maybe, but not cosmic.

  But with Mach… There was just something about him she couldn’t explain.

  Obviously she needed sleep.

  Clearing her throat, she straightened. “The pipping is an excellent sign. Means the hatchling is fully or near fully developed and strong enough to start the process. But it might take another twenty-four hours before the shell cracks wide enough to let it out.”

  Mach hovered one big, blunt fingertip near the external pip but didn’t touch. “Can we…help it along?”

  She shook her head. “Cracking the shell early would do more harm than good. In these last hours, the chicks finish absorbing the yolk and separating their vascular system from the egg itself. Breaking the shell might cause the chick to bleed out.”

  His finger curled into his fist. “Then I’ll be patient. I should know that, shouldn’t I?”

  Since his voice was low and the question sounded rhetorical, she didn’t answer. “In the meantime, I’m heading home for a shower, breakfast, and research. Not necessarily in that order. I’ll check in with you—”

  “You can’t leave.”

  She frowned. His voice was still low but that comment wasn’t at all rhetorical. “The egg won’t be hatching for awhile,” she said again, “and even if it did, the chick will likely need to rest. It will be fine.” And if it wasn’t, she couldn’t do much without knowing more about the species. “So I’ll just—”

  “You can’t leave,” he repeated.

  For the first time since she’d spotted his hulking form, a twinge of alarm crawled down her spine. She was alone out here. Only Graham would bother wondering where she was, and if Mach said she’d left… People went missing all the time.

  “Mr. Halley,” she said stiffly. “I wasn’t asking.”

  He stood to face her, his heavy features blank, and she couldn’t help but notice he was blocking the bathroom door. The warm, humid air suddenly felt cloying. Like blood.

  “I just meant…” He rubbed the first knuckle of his big hand across his lips. “You can shower and eat here. While we wait.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not showering with the egg.”

  He scowled and glanced away from her. “There are other bathrooms. And better towels. Somewhere.”

  What… “I have my own shower and coffee. I don’t need yours.”

  “But I need—” He cut himself off and leaned toward her.

  When she leaned away, unnerved, he broke the odd decorative finial off the tub spout pull-up. The squeal of wrenched metal sent a full-on cramp of alarm down her spine this time.

  He held it out. “This is pure, solid gold. Consider it a not-leaving-yet fee.”

  Okay, this was even more unnerving…

  She stared at it. Just slightly smaller than her palm, the golden finial was a spiraling twist like soft-serve ice cream: Russian Orthodox bordello Dairy Queen. “If it was pure gold, that would be…”

  “Worth a lot.” One corner of his mouth twisted too, almost a smile. “Not worth as much as making sure the egg hatches. Not to me.” The almost-smile vanished. “Please, Doctor Chien. You’re the only one who can do this.”

  It wasn’t the gold—well, not just the gold—that decided her. The disquiet in his dark eyes, all flickers of silver gone, seemed to cancel her nervousness. Plus, he’d appealed to her pride.

  Maybe she was dumb to stay, just like her family sometimes insinuated—lovingly but infuriatingly—that she wasn’t smart enough to be a real doctor. But she wanted to see what was inside the egg.

  And if she was being honest, she wanted to figure out what was inside Mach too.

  “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “But if this turns out to be an elephant bird or moa or some other suspected extinct species, I’m going to need your permission to be the sole reporting expert on the hatching.” She waited until he said yes. “And I’ll need more coffee.”

  That subtle curve of his lips returned, smoothing away another edge of her nerves. And replacing it with something…softer. For all the harsh cast of his features and intimidating size, his mouth had a gentleness that appealed to something inside her, the part of her that had stubbornly chosen to be a veterinarian, championing the vulnerable and voiceless while her sister and the rest of her family pushed so hard for prestige and profit.

  As for profit… She plucked the gold finial from his outstretched palm. She didn’t believe it was pure gold. But just in case.

  His almost-smile widened. “I’ll show you the other shower and then I’ll head into town for some feed. Then you can get some sleep while I keep watch, and we’ll trade until the egg hatches.”

  “We can just check it once an hour or so until the pip expands.” She rolled the finial in her hand. The metal—whatever it was—warmed to her touch. She tightened her fingers around it. “One other thing.”

  At the tone of her voice, he straightened. Being taller should have made him seem scarier, but his attentive expression showe
d he was listening.

  “Don’t ever tell me what I can’t do,” she said in the same even tone she used with growling dogs and pawing bulls. “You throw your weight around with me again and I will castrate you.” She paused. “Metaphorically. Do you understand me?”

  “Lun-mei—”

  “Nod once if my words are clear to you. Say anything else if you want me to walk out of here right now.”

  His jaw clenched several times with the words he obviously felt she really needed to hear, but then he nodded.

  She let out a breath. “Okay then. Take me to a shower with no egg in it, give me a couch or nice reclining chair, and then leave me be until sunrise. Bring me a cup of that good coffee—really, it can be the same pot and I probably won’t notice.” She paused. “Unless the egg cracks. Then come get me.”

  He lifted one finger along with one eyebrow.

  “You may speak,” she said magnanimously.

  He grunted. “Since I’m going into town… What kind of donuts do you like?”

  Chapter 5

  After driving through the all-night donut shop, Mach was first in line at the feed store when it opened at seven a.m. He bought a bag of quail chick feed, although he knew the hatchling would eat anything when it emerged. That was why he needed to get home immediately.

  If it ate the pretty little veterinarian, he was sure she’d be annoyed with him again.

  Also, she’d be dead.

  The thought made his innards seize in a way that sent his nanites into high alert. They zoomed through his bloodstream, seeking to neutralize the threat.

  But there was nothing for them to do. Lun-mei was already too deeply past their defenses.

  How had that happened? Even as he lifted the heavy sack of seed into the bed of his pickup, he knew it was no mystery. She cared for his unborn matrix-kin as much as he did. More, actually, because he’d planned to kill it, and she didn’t even know what it was but wanted to save it.

  Beyond her delicacy and pleasingly symmetrical features that held just enough idiosyncrasy to be even more fascinating, it was that veiled strength that intrigued him. She didn’t care that he was a genetically and cybernetically enhanced killer alien—well, technically she didn’t know he was that, but even if she did, he had no doubt she would’ve faced him down and told him not to discount the cost of challenging her.

  Little she was, but mighty, and in his matrix, she would be a Gamma—empathetic, dedicated, and utterly impossible to push around.

  Except…he didn’t have a matrix anymore. Even Delta was avoiding him now.

  And suddenly, he felt at peace with that outcome. It had been a hundred and fifty years since the crash, give or take a decade, and he’d done everything demanded of him by his programming and by his commitment, always dreading the moment he would be reclaimed. Maybe he could finally believe he was free.

  Hands so tight on the steering wheel that the steel under the vinyl groaned, he breathed out a shuddering gust of air. Free. Free like the hatchling was soon to be. So he still had some commitments, but they were vows he was choosing for himself.

  Driving precisely four miles over the posted limit so as to be neither too unlawful nor suspiciously law-abiding, Mach returned to the Fallen A just as the October sun was coming over the lodgepole pines. His nanites had turned the coffee and the earlier racing of his heart into energy, so he felt no need for rest, but Lun-mei had commanded him to wake her.

  And he could not deny a direct command, could he?

  The dogs were stationed outside the extra bedroom with the bathroom he’d shown her earlier, so he knew she was still within. If she had been his Gamma, he would be free to let himself in. But he was no longer Alpha, and she was an Earther.

  And she’d threatened to take his sexual organs once already. Not that he’d been designed with the intent of breeding—his kind were made for destruction rather than creation.

  He peered into his own bathroom where the egg remained upright in its nest of towels. Lun-mei must’ve checked on it before sleep because the heat lamp had been moved to the other side of the tub. Was the pip hole larger? Maybe it was.

  He made more coffee, laid out the donuts on a platter, and went to knock at her door. “Doctor Chien?” That sounded wrong to him, like driving exactly the speed limit. “Lun-mei?” Yes, that was better, more like driving a bit too fast. Some sort of grumbling reached him through the closed door, and he rested his forehead against the heavy wood, as if he were listening to the egg. She was waking within, and she sounded as grumpy as a hatchling. “Coffee and donuts are in the kitchen.” There. That should soothe her enough that maybe he’d survive her emergence.

  When she joined him at the counter minutes later, her silky black hair was still rumpled from sleep, and the extra t-shirt and cargo pants she’d produced from her supplies bag—“no vet goes on calls without an emergency change of clothes,” she’d told him—were equally creased. But the dark blue hue brought out the gold in her skin and the shine in her eyes. “The pip is definitely bigger.”

  “I thought so too.” He pushed the brimming coffee mug toward her and then the platter of donuts.

  She grinned at him. “Chocolate frosted and chocolate sprinkles. Awesome.”

  “So I wouldn’t accidentally feed those to Chip and Pickle,” he said solemnly.

  She snorted. “Let’s take breakfast to the bathroom.” Pausing, she tilted her head. “That sounded weird.”

  “I’ve heard weirder.”

  And they were about to see even weirder.

  After he transferred the coffee to an insulated carafe, the dogs followed them halfway down the hall toward the bathroom then stopped in unison, whining.

  Lun-mei turned to study them. “Maybe you should put them outside.”

  He nodded. “Good idea.” At the back door, he gave them each half a vanilla frosted. “It’s a birthday,” he told them. “In a way, mine.”

  Their eager smacking noises sounded like cheers.

  In the bordello bathroom, Lun-mei was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, watching the egg while she ate. “Very definitely bigger,” she reported. “I saw the egg tooth once, I think, but the shell is really thick so this is going to take awhile.” She licked chocolate frosting off her thumb. “If you want to catch some shut-eye, I’ll come get you when something exciting happens.”

  “This is the most exciting thing to happen here in forever,” he told her honestly as he settled across from her next to the tub. “I don’t think I could sleep even if I wanted to.” Also true.

  Maybe she heard the sincerity in his voice because she studied him over her coffee mug the same way she’d looked assessingly at the dogs. “So are you ready to tell me where the egg came from?”

  So much for honesty. “I said. I inherited it. A previous employer of mine”—the would’ve-been keyholder, really, a hundred-fifty years in the past—“abandoned it. I didn’t think it would hatch.”

  She drank then nodded, obviously deciding she believed him. “Was this employer Tanner Cross, by any chance?”

  Mach tucked his chin in affront. “That slick bastard? Not ever. He’s crooked as two corkscrews going opposite directions, and everybody says it.” He’d heard them say exactly that in town, which was how he knew the words.

  She coughed out a laugh. “Doesn’t stop people from working with him since he’s got money.” Her mouth flattened. “There’s talk that he’s wanting to open a big game ranch in this county. My boss opposes it, of course. But if anyone would have a rare, giant ratite—that’s the same family as ostriches and emus—it would be Tanner Cross.”

  Mach hooked one arm over the lip of the tub, touching the curve of the egg. “A game ranch. That must be why he keeps sending me letters. His holding company has been trying to buy this property and a couple neighbors too.”

  Her scowl was ferocious. “I hope you told him to fuck off. With however many corkscrews he pleases.”

  “Didn’t bother answeri
ng him. This place isn’t for sale at any price.”

  After a moment, she relaxed. “I guess a guy who keeps pure gold in his bathroom doesn’t need Cross for anything.”

  “Having my own resources makes it easier to ignore him,” Mach agreed. “But beings like him don’t like hearing no. They think they can have whatever they want.”

  Holding the coffee close to her chest, she tilted her head curiously. “Beings?”

  He managed not to grimace at his mistake. She was too easy to talk to. But at least he hadn’t said Earthers. “Men like him. I’ve encountered many of them, and I’ll tell them no however many times they need to hear it.”

  Except…he hadn’t fought the beings who’d changed him. He hadn’t been able to say no. He hadn’t been able to say anything.

  Maybe he’d accidentally betrayed some of his anger because Lun-mei stretched out one leg to bump her boot against his. “I have no doubt Tanner Cross will have to listen to you,” she said with a reassuring smile. “And Graham is working to make sure Cross can’t get a state permit to import, plus he’s marshalling legal opposition to keeping any exotic predatory megavertebrates.”

  Such a law would apply to Mach too, and the unborn hatchling, of course. Not that Doctor Green or Tanner Cross would ever discover it.

  And he’d be making sure Lun-mei forgot it.

  He let out a slow breath. “I’m glad you are here to help me.”

  She nodded. “People can be hard, but animals don’t judge you for what you aren’t, only for what you do. Be kind, be present, and an animal will reflect that back at you, no lies.”

  She wanted no lies? He almost winced. “Need some more coffee?”

  “Always.”

  Always? His nanites could last practically that long, but though he’d existed for more than two hundred years, he’d been conditioned to never look much past the end of his blaster muzzle. Now, as Lun-mei held out her mug expectantly, he caught a glimpse of what always might really look like.