by Kim Falconer
‘MMA. It’s a contact sport,’ I whispered.
‘So you say.’ He was behind me, pressing his ear in between my shoulder blades. ‘Deep, slow breaths,’ he said, his voice vibrating through my chest.
I did as he said, grateful for the air that filled my lungs. When he leaned me back and reached for the drawstring around my pants, a smile crossed my lips. He slipped my pants off and ran his hands up my legs. I tried to think of it as a purely professional assessment. My doctor, making sure I was alright. That lasted about two seconds.
The air wafted over my body. Daniel’s hands were on my thighs. Daniel? I think he mumbled something about training not being so good for me and that I should stay away from Miguel Rossi. Or maybe that was my thought. It all blurred. Slowly, I drew my knees up and sat tall, my arms going around his neck. I pulled his face in to me. It felt right, comforting and warm, as my lips brushed his. So familiar.
He hesitated, poised for a moment. I didn’t give him time to think. I wrapped my arms tighter, pressing up into his body. Kissing him was my ticket out of here, and I took it, full on the lips. But now it was Rossi absorbing my touch. He didn’t join in at first, but he didn’t resist either. Then he straddled me, keeping his weight on his knees, and kissed me back. The passion rose like a heat wave and I wrapped my legs around him, pressing my pelvis into his. Enthralled, I sucked on his neck, drawing in his pounding pulse. Warmth filled me with a rush of exciting scents. ‘I’ve missed this so much.’
‘Me too.’
I bit harder and warm, coppery blood spread over my tongue. He didn’t seem to notice. He was doing the same to me.
A rush of images hit me as my tongue exploded with pinpricks. Sensations rippled down my spine, then up into my head. I saw, not Daniel, or Miguel, but Tom and me, the night we first hooked up. It was like receiving Tom’s impressions, in full, living colour. The vision shifted through some of our more intimate nights. Then there was his dad, dressed in a suit that would cost me six months’ rent. Laughs. Arguments. A fist fight. I couldn’t tell who won.
The images faded and I sobered. He was all over my neck. Tom! Oh no. His kisses were wet, his desire pulsing. I started to pull away when the door slammed shut.
When had it opened?
‘Tom?’ Zoe’s small, shocked voice snapped me fully awake.
‘Fuck,’ Tom said into my face. He rolled off of me, swearing softly.
I was on my feet in an instant, topless. Bottomless too. I stared at Zoe, licking blood off my lips. My euphoria evaporated, along with any trace of Rossi or Daniel Bane.
Zoe stared at me, her mouth hanging open. ‘What the hell, you guys?’
I kinda felt exactly the same. Pretty sure Tom did, too.
‘Did you do that to her?’ she asked Tom, her voice not much more than a growl.
She’s on my side? I was impressed.
‘God, you’re bleeding too!’
Tom’s hand went to his neck.
‘Were you trying to kill each other?’
Sorta the opposite, but it wasn’t Tom in my head, not most of the time, anyway. I glanced down at my stark naked body. How to explain? There was a fair bit of blood crusting over my skin, and my nose had started bleeding again. This looked all kinds of bad. Because it is bad. Why had I been sexing it up with Tom? Right, I thought he was one of the other guys my body was hot for. I didn’t want Tom, not like this, did I? We were over. I sure as hell didn’t want to drag Zoe into it, or hurt her. This had to hurt, right? Bad. I cleared my throat, but that’s as far as I could go with an explanation. Maybe Tom could take it from here. Somehow I thought he was someone else didn’t seem like it would cut it.
Tom was useless. Dumbstruck. His shirt was off. His belt buckle was undone, hard-on undeniable, hand still clamped over his neck, where I’d bitten him. Bitten him! Add that to my list of messed up psycho behaviours. He was either trying to hide it or stop the bleeding, I wasn’t sure. I cleared my throat a few more times. ‘Zoe, I can explain.’
‘Seriously?’ Her arms were crossed, her expression wicked. ‘How?’
She further impressed me. Zoe wasn’t crying, sobbing over victim rationales or simpering about being betrayed, or whatever had just happened. Nor was she trying to zone out, like me. She sure had some balls in this situation, some presence. I could learn from her.
‘I’m waiting.’ Zoe’s jaw was so tight I could hear her teeth grind. What the hell, Tom. You said you guys were over.
‘We are over!’ I answered before realising I’d picked that thought straight out of Zoe’s head. Or imagined I did …
Are we over? I heard Tom wonder.
Bloody hell. This was way too confusing for me.
Tom pulled on his shirt, buying time. I thought about how to answer. Direct honesty was the only way out. Whatever had caused Tom to join in our little blast-that-was-better-than-the-past make-out session, was for him to sort out with her, not me. We weren’t together. My head cleared at the thought. I had some things of my own to deal with, and thanks to Zoe walking in on us, I was out of the fantasy and back in charge, more or less. ‘Zoe, this is weird, I know. Maybe we’re having some pas de trois Neptune transit?’
‘Really? You’re going to blame this on astrology?’ Tom said out the side of his mouth. He’d never been a huge fan of the stars.
‘Not blaming. Just saying, extenuating circumstances, that’s all.’ I swept up my gi and undies, and looked Zoe in the eye. ‘Here’s the deal. I was hurt bad tonight at training. Tom checked my injuries and I zoned in and out.’ I knew what I was going to say next would hurt Tom. Had to say it though, for all concerned. ‘To be honest, I thought he was my doctor and this other guy … um.’ Maybe I shouldn’t over-complicate the story.
If her brows pinched any tighter her face would crack. ‘You do that stuff with your doctor?’
‘It was the first time.’
Tom stared at me.
Sorry, Tom. ‘You didn’t think I was trying to start things up again, did you?’ I spoke to him softly and caught his wince.
‘Of course not. It was a weird time warp, is all.’
Zoe looked from me to Tom, and back to me. ‘What kind of training?’ she asked, nodding at the blood spattered gi in my hand.
It wasn’t what I’d expected her to focus on. ‘It’s the LA branch of Mixed Martial Arts. Mostly jujitsu, but kickboxing, judo, wrestling.’ I let my voice trail off as Tom glared at me.
Zoe mulled that over while I became increasingly aware of my nakedness.
Tom put on his ‘I’m hurt, you can’t see me’ face and turned to Zoe. ‘Like she said, I was checking her injuries and, we have a lot of history. It’s in the past. It won’t happen again.’
I suddenly felt like a third wheel.
Tom stepped closer to her. ‘Zoe. I’m really sorry. I know we haven’t been going out long but …’
My cue to leave. I went to clean up. I’d probably need somewhere else to stay now. Way to mess up your safe haven, Ava.
I used a ton of hot water, letting the shower wash away the blood and sweat. It drowned out Tom and Zoe in the next room too, a big plus. Maybe they were having make-up sex, the whole situation being some kind of a turn-on. ‘Well, somebody ought to be enjoying themselves,’ I muttered, as water beat down on my shoulders. My thoughts started to settle. Rossi had some explaining to do. As I pictured him, the boy on the wharf came to mind. What had happened to him, that he went from a smiling child, fishing in the sun, to the emaciated one, dying under the pier? Was it real? I shivered in spite of the heat.
I washed blood out of my hair, remembering Rossi claimed he could find my mother, or my guardian. Whatever he meant, there was a chance that this Teern had information about my past, or knew how to track it down. I had a meeting set up with Kathleen Jones … maybe she could help. Or maybe it was all a strange loop because Rossi sure as hell hadn’t given me straight answers yet.
I closed my eyes and let the hot water flow down my body, soothin
g and relaxing. Images of the Mar floated back into my mind, their heads turning to see me, Rossi’s eyes opening. Who are you? The more I tried to find out, the less I knew.
* * *
Two days later — glorious days that included takeaway noodles, study, sleep, the miraculous avoidance of Tom, and a long but uneventful shift at Poseidon on Sunday night — I found myself in Jones’s office. It was spacious and elegant, tidy, a striking contrast to Rourke’s hot mess. Sitting opposite Jones, the rosewood desk between us, made me feel valued, like what I might say mattered. Sure, I was still suspicious, eyeing everything, but the news so far was good.
‘Ava, there are no charges being pressed, so you’re free of Detective Flanagan.’ Kathleen was in a dark-brown business suit today, with a knee-length skirt. She looked sharp as ever, tall, graceful and totally in control.
‘Great. Thanks.’ I sat up straighter, smoothing my tank top down over stonewashed jeans. ‘There’s something else though. Maybe you can help?’ I had no second thoughts about letting Miguel Rossi pay the bill on this extended consultation, not after what he’d done to me.
What did he do?
My head snapped up. Jones was focussed on me, beautiful brown eyes unblinking.
‘Huh?’
‘Trouble with Miguel?’
This telepathy game was not making me happy. Who are you people?
Mar, just like you. She crossed her arms.
Damn. I’d been doing well pushing thoughts of what Rossi said to me out of my head. It was a hung jury, until I found out for myself where I came from and who, or what, I was. ‘I want to find my mother.’ I want her to look me in the eye and confirm I’m human.
‘Yes, Miguel mentioned you have some confusion there. No wonder you’re struggling.’
‘I’m not struggling.’ Oh, hell, why lie? But it wasn’t making me comfortable, knowing she and Rossi were talking behind my back. ‘My birth mother might have answers to my blood condition.’
She smiled. ‘We’re here to help.’
So help, already. Find the woman who abandoned me. ‘I have missing pieces.’ As if that would be enough to explain it.
‘You run into a door?’
The question took me by surprise. I guess the icepack, makeup and fast healing hadn’t been quite enough.
‘Training got a little out of hand.’
So I see.
Get out of my head! I seriously hoped the hallucinations weren’t coming back.
‘If you prefer.’ She smiled, an icon of patience, which made me feel about five. ‘Tell me.’
‘I train in the LA-MMA circuit.’
She nodded. It wasn’t news to her.
‘I lost it in the cage.’ There, it was out.
‘After you ran away from Miguel?’
Was it on the five o’clock news? ‘Something like that. It’s a bit of a blur.’
Her phone rang and she pressed the com button. ‘I’ll take it in a moment, Chloe.’ She returned her attention to me. ‘You cut loose in the ring?’
‘Yeah, but he wasn’t holding back either.’
‘Is he smaller than you?’
‘Hell, no. He’s six foot two and three times my weight.’
‘Who won?’
Not the question I expected. ‘Me, and it wasn’t a TKO. I put him in hospital.’
‘And you don’t think that odd?’
I think my whole freaking life for the last two weeks is beyond odd.
‘It’s okay, Ava. Relax.’ She pulled a file from a drawer. ‘I’ve dug around a bit since we last talked, at Rossi’s request.’ She pulled out a letter, signed it and stamped it with a seal. ‘Rourke is your best bet to gain access to the hospital records. If anyone can uncover your past, he can. The contact must be in there. You bring me a name, and I’ll have it straight to Teern.’
Him again? I waited for more explanation. ‘That’s it?’
‘Question?’
I shook my head. ‘You guys talk like I’m in the loop.’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘Not in the least.’
She gave a light laugh, indulgent, as if I’d spoken nonsense. ‘Drop this to Rourke on your way.’
I thanked her and left. Rourke’s precinct was two doors down. One-stop shopping for all your legal needs. He was in, too, which was a bonus; at least that’s what I thought until he started yelling at me. What side of the bed had he gotten up on? Damn, he looked like hell, and sounded worse.
‘You waltz in here, waving papers in my face, asking for favours?’
‘Um. Yeah.’
‘You think Dom didn’t bring me up to speed on your session Saturday night? Jesus Christ, Ava! What’s happened to you?’
‘Me? Where were you anyway? I wasn’t even planning on going in the cage.’ Sure, it wasn’t his fault, but the question came out anyway.
Big night …
‘What did you say?’ Rourke was a lot of things, but a clubber wasn’t one of them. Then I realised I’d picked up his thoughts, not his words. Stay on track, Ava.
‘You pulverised Jimmy, and by the look of you, he was holding back.’
‘He wasn’t!’ I shouted, then collected myself. In a civil voice I said, ‘The symptoms are morphing.’ It was the only explanation that made sense to me. I hadn’t run it by Tom, my usual biochemical sounding board, since we hadn’t spoken since the incident. Call me chicken. But that was beside the point, because it was a logical explanation. ‘That’s why I need to find my birth mother. I need to find her soon.’
‘Your blood condition is morphing into rage?’ He didn’t pause to let me speak. ‘Because rage is how Dom described it. Four men, Ava! It took that much muscle to pull you off.’ He leaned forward, his brow creased, eyes blazing. ‘I don’t pretend to know how or why it happened, but if you’re caught going ballistic again, I won’t be able to protect you. If Jimmy presses charges, and the juvie file is opened, they’ll throw away the key. Slam. Clink. The end. Then it will have all been for nothing.’
Nothing? He wasn’t pulling punches, but it was true. If they locked me up, it was goodbye Ava as I knew her. No graduating, no saving lives with CDC. I’d be lucky to get a job washing test tubes there. No MMA club. No teaching street kids how to protect themselves, no future, at least, not the one I wanted. ‘It won’t happen again.’
‘Seriously, Ava. It can’t.’ He relaxed a little. ‘My hands are tied if it does.’
‘I’ll apologise to Jimmy.’ That would not be fun.
‘You’ll apologise to the entire school.’
Not unexpected. I waited until he leaned back in his chair and relaxed his shoulders. ‘So, can you help me find my birth mother?’
He re-read the letter from Jones. ‘This gives me license to look, and there is one place I might be able to throw some weight around.’
I raised my eyebrows.
‘It’s better you don’t know,’ he said softly.
‘You mean child services was blowing me off?’
‘Maybe. I’ll find out.’
‘Thanks. I owe you.’
‘Like that’s something new?’ He gave me one of his rare, warm smiles. ‘Be careful. There’s still a killer out there with your name on his mind. I don’t want you going anywhere alone after dark. Agreed?’
‘I’m not arguing.’
‘Though after what you did to Jimmy, I’m not so sure you’re in any real danger.’
‘The stalker usually has a gun.’ I tilted my head, storm over. ‘You’re keeping the stake out on me, right? So we can catch this guy.’
‘Until he’s behind bars, I promise.’ He sighed. ‘You’re our bait, I won’t deny it, but Ava, no getting hurt again. Understand?’
‘Got it.’
He came from around the desk and gave me a quick, one arm hug. ‘Be safe.’
I soaked up the good graces and left.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next morning, I counted my blessings. I hadn’t been chased, shot at or beaten
up for over seventy-two hours. Nil underwater imagery. The bright sun beamed in through the east window, and I didn’t even growl at it. After a quick shower, I headed to Kerckhoff Hall, best bistro in the business. Tom was out, and yeah, I was still avoiding him. He’d been staying at Zoe’s, fallout from the other night. I felt like crap about it. My plan: bunk at Cate’s. I sent another message to her, asking her to call me back. I scanned through the rest of my inbox and found a text message from Celeste, one of Daina Fleming’s friends. She had a break between classes and asked if I had time to meet up. Perfect.
Kerckh in ten, I texted. South entrance. Spot U?
Tall, blonde, red rose tat on my left arm, she texted back.
C U Soon.
I found her at a window seat, sipping black coffee and munching a bagel with avo and cream cheese.
‘Ava?’ She looked me up and down, her smile fading.
‘Thanks for meeting with me.’ I sat opposite and waved at the waiter, ordering a long black and organic raisin toast with sprouts.
‘You’re not what I expected.’ Celeste didn’t appreciate my ex-army camos, pale tank top and steel-toed boots, it seemed. ‘You say you work for the police?’
‘I do.’ And I also lie sometimes. I was doing research the police should be doing. Close enough.
‘What’s with the Lara Croft look?’
‘I like to be prepared. Did you think of anything else? About the last night you saw Daina?’ I studied her body language, ready to pick up any subtle messages. Consciously, things might have been all fun and games at Poseidon the night Daina disappeared, but maybe there was more to it than that. I opened to her mind as well. Why not take advantage of my receptivity to others’ thoughts if it was on? No telling how long that would last; whether it was more than a part of the Discovery Channel hallucinations or not.
‘I don’t know anything more than what I already put in my statement, but …’
I leaned forward.
