by S. E. Smith
“Can Adalard… Daddy… help me?” Adaline asked.
Tears burned her eyes as Adalard’s unconscious reaction to Adaline calling him Daddy for the first time hit her.
“I’m sure he will if you ask him,” she replied with a tender smile.
“Will you?” Adaline requested, looking back at him.
“Of course,” he quietly replied.
Adaline slipped her small hand into his when he stood. Samara’s gaze followed them as they walked down the hallway. She started when her cellphone vibrated. Pulling it from the back pocket of her jeans, she glanced at the screen. A sad smile curved her lips when she saw the text from Bear.
Is everything okay? How is Adaline? How are you doing?
Everything is fine. Adaline is adjusting and getting to know Adalard. I’m okay. I…
She paused and bit her lip. Tears burned her eyes again and her stomach knotted. She didn’t want to hurt Bear. She also wouldn’t lie to him. He deserved better than that.
I… hope you understand. I’m happy that he is back, she typed.
There was a pause as she waited for his reply. Her chest felt tight when she saw the dots showing he was responding. She lifted her hand to smother the sob as she read his response.
Adaline is a very special little girl, just like her mother. I love you both. I’ll be here if you need me—always.
She wiped the tear from her cheeks and typed the only response she could think.
We love you too. Thank you.
She turned back toward the kitchen and closed her eyes. It felt like she was saying goodbye and leaving a piece of her heart. Another sob escaped, and she knew she needed a few minutes alone.
I’ll watch Adaline, Adalard’s compassionate voice filled her head.
Thank you, she responded.
She twisted around, grabbed her coat and hat off the hook by the door, and quietly exited the apartment. She placed her hat on her head, pulled her coat on, and pulled her gloves out of her coat pockets as she descended the stairs. The frigid air cooled her heated cheeks and helped to clear her mind.
The sky had darkened, and the snowflakes were beginning to thicken. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it was predicted to get. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she stepped off the stairs and headed for the UTV parked behind her truck. They would be taking it to the big house.
She had only taken a few steps when a sharp prick on the back of her thigh caused her to wince and stumble. The sensation of a wasp sting caused her to mutter a muted curse. Reaching down, she started to rub the aching spot. Her hand bumped against something attached to her jeans and she looked down to see what it was. A wave of dizziness washed over her when she bent over and picked up a thin dart.
“What the…?” she hissed in a slurred voice.
She sank down to her knees as the world tilted to the side. Her fingers tightened around the cylinder before relaxing as darkness surrounded her, and she fell onto her side. She didn’t see the man standing in the shadows under the staircase nor the grim smile of satisfaction on his face.
Adalard carefully accepted the doll clothes and dolls that Adaline handed him and packed them in the bright pink bag with a glittery unicorn on the front. He still couldn’t get over the fact that he had a daughter. A soft laugh slipped from him when he thought of his brothers’ reactions when they found out. His mother said she would share the news with Melek, but she thought it best if he told Ha’ven and Arrow—mostly because she wanted to see his brothers’ reactions.
The memory of her delighted laugh made him smile. It suddenly dawned on him that Ha’ven’s daughter, Alice, and Adaline were almost the same age. The realization that Adaline wouldn’t be alone filled him with joy.
“Do you love my mommy?” Adaline suddenly asked.
Adalard blinked with surprise at the question. She waited for his response in silence, her violet eyes were serious and held an expression of awareness that was much more mature than he expected from a six-year-old. He sat down on the bed so that he wasn’t towering over her.
“Yes, I love your mommy very much,” he said.
Adaline frowned. “If you love her, then why did you leave us? Bear loves mommy, and he never left.”
He reached out and cupped her hands, but was surprised when she climbed up on his lap. Sliding his arm around her, he brushed her hair back from her face. He marveled at how soft her cheek was against the tips of his fingers.
“What did your mommy tell you about me?” he asked.
Adaline held his hand and played with his fingers while she answered. “She said that you lived far away. She said if I looked up at the stars, that is where you were. I thought that meant you were dead. Bear told me when his daddy died that he went to the stars,” she said.
“My world is very far away. I live on a planet called Ceran-Pax,” he explained.
She looked up at him. “Can you use your gifts there without being afraid?”
He smiled and nodded. “Yes, you can use your gifts all you want and no one will care. You have a cousin your age there. Her name is Alice. She is very gifted and loves to drive your uncle crazy,” he chuckled.
“Are you… are you taking me and mommy with you?” she asked, looking back down at his hand.
He hugged her close and kissed the top of her head. “Yes, Adaline. I’m taking you and your mommy with me this time. I should never have sent your mommy away. If I had suspected… if I had known that you were coming, I would have made it work,” he murmured.
“I wanted my mommy and Bear to be together. I didn’t know you. I’m sorry,” she said with a sniff.
“It isn’t your fault, toneewa. I’m glad Bear was here for you and your mommy when I wasn’t,” he reassured her.
She looked up at him again with a hopeful expression. “Can Bear go with us? And Uncle Mason and Aunty Ann Marie and Chester?”
“Chester? Aw, yes, the horse. I don’t think a horse on a spaceship would be a good idea,” he said, not answering the question about Bear or the others.
“He would be very good. He could stay in my room,” she pleaded.
“I think he would be much happier here with other horses and plenty of room to run, don’t you?” he suggested.
A disappointed expression appeared on her face before she nodded. “I guess so,” she conceded.
“Let’s go put your stuff by the door like your mommy asked,” he said.
He slid her off his lap and stood. Adaline grabbed her pink backpack and zipped it closed while he picked up her suitcase. He absently responded to Adaline’s questions about Alice as they walked down the hallway to the living room.
Samara? he silently reached out, testing to see if she was ready for them.
A deep, unnatural silence greeted him at the same time as the familiar sensation of danger struck him. He released his grip on the suitcase, twisted, and picked Adaline up in his arms. She wound her arms tightly around his neck.
“My mommy… she can’t wake up,” she whispered near his ear.
“Don’t be afraid,” he responded.
“I’m not,” she answered before burying her face against his neck.
Adalard held her tight before he focused inward on the image of Mason and Ann Marie’s kitchen. In the blink of an eye, he was standing next to the large table. Ann Marie squeaked in alarm and dropped the ladle in her hand back into the pot while Sara gasped and rose from where she was sitting at the table.
“Land sakes! Mason!” Ann Marie hollered.
Jaguin reached the kitchen first with a harried-looking Mason skidding to a stop behind him. Jaguin and Mason’s dark frowns of disapproval turned to worry when they noticed the expression on his face. Adalard tried to school it so that he wouldn’t alarm Ann Marie or Sara any more than he already had.
“I need you to protect Adaline,” he said.
“What’s wrong?” Jaguin and Mason demanded at the same time.
“I’m not sure. I… need to find Samara,” he glanced at the
huge Valdier before turning his gaze to Mason.
“Sara and I will take care of Adaline. You men go find Samara,” Ann Marie instructed, reaching for Adaline.
“Give me a second to get some things together,” Mason said.
“Adalard, what is it?” Jaguin asked.
“I’m not sure yet. Samara went outside for a few minutes. Neither Adaline nor I can communicate with her. I… sensed something is wrong,” he replied.
Mason stepped back into the room as he was explaining. He carried a handgun in one hand and a rifle in the other. Jaguin gave Mason a sharp-toothed grin and shook his head when Mason held out the handgun to him.
“How often are you wrong when you get this feeling?” Mason asked.
“Never,” he replied in a low voice.
“Can you tell us what we’re walking into? Human? Alien? A little intel helps before going into a mission,” Mason continued.
“It could be either,” he admitted.
Jaguin gave him a sharp glance. “Hamade?” he asked.
“Possibly. I had a warning that he might attempt to come here. I didn’t think it was possible for him to reach the planet this quickly,” he confessed.
Mason pursed his lips and nodded. “Since you aren’t sure, we’ll go on the assumption that any stranger is hostile. The element of surprise could be in our favor if they think you are either still in the apartment, or they don’t know you’re here. I suggest that I exit and head that way as if everything is normal. The snow will give me some cover. If you can do your popping thing and come up behind the building, we’ll start our search there. Jaguin, you go out through the basement door. I’m assuming that if you are in your other form, you’ll be able to handle the weather. A little air recon and coverage would be nice.”
“Mason… if this is an alien, he will be extremely dangerous. Whatever you do, don’t confront him on your own,” Adalard warned.
“I think you both have some explaining to do after we find Samara,” Mason muttered.
Adalard nodded. He would have preferred that it was just he and Jaguin going. He knew the dragon-shifter could take care of himself, but Mason knew the area better than he did, especially with the worsening weather. He shook his head when Mason held out the gun.
“I won’t need it,” he assured him.
Mason lifted an eyebrow but nodded. “I didn’t think you would, but figured it wouldn’t hurt to offer it, just in case. Ann Marie, you and Sara make sure the house is locked up,” he urged as he leaned the gun against the wall by the door and pulled on his jacket.
“We will. Jaguin take Honey with you,” Sara suggested, motioning to the golden symbiot standing in the doorway.
“Keep a portion with you,” Jaguin replied, kissing Sara before he motioned to his symbiot to divide.
“You men be careful,” Ann Marie instructed with a stern look.
Mason picked up the rifle and winked at her. “I’ll be hungry when I get back.”
“Daddy, you’ll find mommy?” Adaline asked in a soft voice.
Adalard stepped up to Ann Marie and Adaline and tenderly touched his daughter’s cheek. “Yes, toneewa. I’ll find mommy,” he promised before he kissed her on her forehead.
He turned away, pulled the door open, and stepped out into the mudroom with Mason right behind him. The other man reached out and touched his arm before he opened the backdoor on the mud porch. He looked over his shoulder at Mason.
Mason gave him a sharp nod. “We’ll find her,” he said.
He nodded, his throat thick with emotion as he remembered the look in Adaline’s eyes when she asked him if he would find Samara. Focusing, he disappeared.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Hamade cursed as he carried the human female over his shoulder. He had been forced to limit the use of his powers for fear of alerting Adalard and any warriors in the area of his presence. He cursed when he stumbled in the deepening layer of snow.
He dropped the woman on her back in the snow and rested against a tree. He touched the aching wound on his stomach, looking down and scowling at the bloodstain on his hand. He rubbed the alloy cuff attached to his wrist that contained a series of vials.
Curse the traitorous bitch, he thought as he pushed away from the tree.
The Empress might have saved his life, but it had come with a high price. His body, and thus his powers, were now connected with the entity she had created. The more energy he drew from the surrounding area, the more he fed the entity—and the more it fed on his life essence. Until he could find a way to remove the device from his arm, he had to be careful about using his powers if he didn’t want to lose complete control.
A movement out of the corner of his eye made him pause, and he crouched behind the tree. He followed a group of men with a narrowed-eyed focus. They were dressed all in white and moving slowly through the wooded area. Each man held a weapon, and they were moving toward the buildings he had left minutes before.
It was obvious they were not searching for him, and from their lack of auras and the way they moved, he knew they were human. Something was going down—and he wanted to know what it was. He fought between the need to get his target to the concealed shuttle he had arrived in and finding out what was happening. In the end, he decided to follow the group. He targeted a man who had moved out of formation from the others.
He glanced at the woman. She would be unconscious for a while longer. The restraining cuffs on her wrists and ankles would hold her. He checked the gag he had covered her mouth with to make sure it was secure in case she woke. Satisfied that she wouldn’t be going anywhere, he rose to his feet in search of his target.
From the van parked on the service road two miles away, Jack oversaw and directed the assembled team. He looked at the weather forecast before focusing on the heat signatures on the scanner screen. He reached out and activated the body cam and communicator on the team leader’s vest.
“T1, you have approximately forty-five minutes before white-out conditions begin,” he cautioned.
“T1, Oorah!” T1 responded quietly.
He looked at the screen again and frowned. There were ten men on the team, but only nine of the heat signatures were still in formation. He pressed the communication button again.
“T1, check your flank. T7 is out of formation,” he advised.
“T1, Oorah!” T1 confirmed.
He drummed his fingers on the console before he released a curse. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut. He stared at the video streams before turning back to the lone heat signature.
“Take over,” he ordered to the woman sitting beside him.
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
He stood, opened the door to the van, and stepped out. Reaching inside the door, he retrieved a M40A5 sniper rifle before he pressed the button to close the door. He pulled on a pair of goggles and adjusted the hood of his white jacket over his head.
The snow swirled around him, covering the terrain in a white blanket. He pulled out the portable tracker from his pocket and checked his bearings. Turning toward the west, he followed the position of the missing man.
Light, powdery snow crunched under his feet as he moved in an indirect line toward T7’s last position. The wind was picking up and hid the sound of his approach. He paused to check his course and the positions of the other men. The rest of the team was near the buildings where their target was located. T7’s position had remained unchanged.
He pocketed the tracker and gripped the rifle. When he was within fifty yards of his target, he slowed his pace and dropped to the ground. He extended the bipod, looked through the scope, and slowly swept the area for any signs of life.
Jack paused when he saw a crumpled form barely visible in the snow. He cautiously scanned the area one more time before advancing. T7 was lying face down in the snow. He reached down and rolled the man over. He jerked back, almost falling over when he saw the man’s shriveled gray face, wide empty eyes, and open mouth.
“What the fuck?” he hissed, stepping closer to examine the man.
T7 looked as if he had been mummified. Jack used the end of his gun to tilt the dead man’s head from side to side before he scanned the body. The front video cam had been ripped off.
He glanced around through the white haze and touched the microphone in his right ear. “L-zebra to base,” he murmured.
“L-zebra this is base,” the woman replied.
“Review T7 video and report,” he ordered.
“Oorah…. Negative video on T7. Nothing but snow visible, sir,” the woman answered.
“Rewind and search last ten minutes,” he ordered.
“Oorah,” the woman responded.
He studied the ground. The barely visible indentations in the snow indicated footprints. He followed them, noting that they came from the side. Whoever—whatever—attacked T7 had come from the direction of the buildings.
“L-Zebra, negative enemy contact. Snow only,” the woman finally responded.
Ahead was another crumpled figure. He lifted the rifle and took slow, measured steps toward the person. This person was a ranch hand by the looks of the snow-covered clothing that was visible. A hat covered the face. Using the end of the rifle, he lifted the hat high enough so that he could see their face. He knocked it aside, staring in astonishment when he saw who it was.
He crouched and tugged off his glove with his teeth. He held his hand over Samara’s nose. Warm air caressed his chilled flesh. She was alive!
He pulled his glove back on, removed the gag from her mouth, and tapped her cold cheek. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she moaned. He wrapped his arm around her and lifted her into a sitting position.
She moaned again and leaned heavily against him. He noticed when she lifted her arms that her wrists were restrained by an unusual locking device. Her head rolled back, and her eyes closed again.
He looked at her legs and noticed they were restrained as well. There was a light flashing on them, and he didn’t know if there was an explosive that would detonate if he tried to remove them. He couldn’t leave her here. His assignment was to eliminate her, but until he had some answers, he needed her alive.
