Inferno

by Cara Bristol

  Inferno hid the hover scooter behind a cluster of bushes. He’d arrived early, but he spotted Geneva sitting on a bench under a cedar.

  He approached with trepidation. She’d called and asked him to meet her Sunday morning at the park near the school. Her guarded tone suggested the meeting wouldn’t be a positive one.

  “Hi,” he said. Despite his anxiety, both hearts swelled with emotion at seeing her again. Since their physical union, his need and love for her had grown deeper.

  “Hi.” She smoothed her hands over her denim-clad thighs. She needed new pants, he noted, as hers were ripped in several places, her knees sticking out of big holes in the fabric. Despite the sorry state of her pants, she was still beautiful. Sunlight glinted on golden-blonde hair. The reflection off her pink short-sleeved top added rosy color to her smooth cheeks.

  He sat on the bench.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” she said.

  “You knew I would.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Isn’t that why we’re here?”

  Her breasts rose and fell with her breaths. “Stop sending me flowers and writing me notes.”

  “I thought you liked them.”

  “It’s too much! You went overboard—it’s getting weird.”

  “I wanted to show you I love you. You’re my genmate.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” Sky-blue eyes flashed. “You shouldn’t say those things. It’s too soon to feel it and too soon to say it.” She rubbed her bare knees. “Look, I screwed up, and I take responsibility for that. Sleeping with you so quickly gave you the wrong idea. I can’t undo it, but I can move forward and not repeat the same mistake.”

  It felt like she’d stabbed him in both hearts. “You don’t want to have sex with me anymore?”

  “Not until—if—I’m sure of my feelings for you.”

  “You don’t love me?”

  “We just met!” She jumped up and waved her hands. She paced before whirling around. “We come from two different worlds, two different cultures. For you, love is fast and immediate when you meet the right person.”

  “Yes.” He couldn’t disagree with anything she’d said.

  “I don’t operate like that. We have chemistry, but you’re moving too fast for me.”

  “Mandy said I should be a presence.”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Oh, she did, did she? Maybe you ought to stop listening to a psychic and start listening to me. I’m your genmate!”

  A slow grin spread over his face.

  “What are you grinning at?” She scowled.

  He erased his smile. She had no idea what she’d admitted. He wasn’t about to point it out to her—she’d deny it, and he wanted to savor her accidental acknowledgement. “The way you said psychic—like it’s a bad thing,” he prevaricated, focusing on the disdain he’d picked up on.

  Her cute nose wrinkled. “Mandy is a sincere person who believes she has ESP—except she doesn’t. She’s wrong. Nobody can see into the future or your past life—there’s no such thing as a past life, and the future has yet to be decided. Anything she says is hocus-pocus, woo-woo fantasy.”

  Geneva was sincere, too, and wrong about Mandy. However, she didn’t need to believe it for it to be true. Still, he got an understanding of the problem he faced—she wouldn’t accept anything until presented with solid, irrefutable evidence.

  Love was real. Their bond was real. But how could he prove it to her?

  “You got that?” She glowered at him.

  He had to fight to keep from smiling. Besides being sincere, she was a little bossy. He liked that fire in her. Sincere. Bossy. Fiery. Passionate. Honest. Direct. Cuddly. So herian cute, he could hug her right now, but that would be the wrong thing to do. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

  “Ma’am?” Her scowl deepened.

  “Geneva.” He cleared his throat. “I promise I will go slow. I won’t bring you flowers or leave you notes until you say it’s okay.” He’d gotten some bad advice from Mandy and Tigre.

  “All right, then,” she huffed, but he could see her irritation deflating like air from a child’s balloon. “I do accept that you’re an alien. You don’t need to keep trying to convince me of that.” She glanced around. “As long as you’re here, would you like to walk around the park? We’re having pleasant weather today. The park isn’t very big, but it’s pretty, and the sidewalk goes all the way around.” She motioned to the footpath spanning the perimeter.

  “Yes, I would like that.” Anything to keep her with him. Keep her talking to him. From her tone on the phone, he’d been fearful she intended to tell him she never wanted to see him again. Getting dumped, humans called it. To lose the one woman meant for him would be awful. If he had to go slow to get her to see the light, then that’s what he’d do. He wished he knew how slow. However, he would not ask Tigre and Mandy for advice anymore. Bring her flowers. Write her a note. Be a presence. Those gestures had irritated her.

  I’m going to have to figure it out myself. At least she didn’t dump me.

  * * * *

  The notes and flowers that had seemed so troubling didn’t seem so worrisome anymore. In person, Inferno struck her as normal—well, normal for an alien—not at all like the stalker she’d convinced herself he was. Perhaps what was crazy were her raging hormones.

  She’d asked him to meet her at the park to tell him she didn’t wish to see him anymore—and as soon as she saw his earnest, concerned face, she’d gotten that fluttery, weak-kneed take-me-you-handsome-devil feeling, and she’d lost her nerve. Suddenly, her fears seemed overblown. He sent me flowers and said he loved me. Try getting a restraining order on that!

  She decided to cut him some slack since he was an extraterrestrial after all. Instead of breaking up with him, she’d laid out some ground rules and expectations. After coming to an agreement, she found herself reluctant to part company.

  They had the park to themselves because the faithful were happily singing hymns at her uncle’s church, and the atheists and heathens were sleeping in or breakfasting at Millie’s. Spring’s rebirth abounded in the greening grass, budding trees, and daffodils and tulips poking out of mulched beds. An April frost could still kill the new growth, but, for now, the park showed the promise of warming weather.

  Inferno, normally chatty, said nothing as they strolled along the path. “Are you mad at me?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “You’re not saying much.”

  “I’m enjoying your company.” He glanced at her. “Trying to go slow.”

  With anyone else, she might have suspected sarcasm, but she sensed his sincerity. His cinnamon-like scent washed over her, and he radiated enough body heat to keep them both warm. With him now, everything seemed right with the world. Maybe I’m obsessing too much. Maybe? If overthinking was an Olympic sport, she’d have won a gold medal.

  Tentatively, she took his hand, and his smile melted her heart. Their fingers laced, fitting together perfectly. Tingles traveled up her arm. Why did he affect her so?

  “It’s a beautiful day,” she said.

  “Yes, it is.”

  She veered around a suspicious splotch. “Watch your step,” she cautioned.

  The path curved toward the park interior. Ahead, a gaggle of Canadian geese waddled across the sidewalk. As they drew near, the geese took wing and landed several yards away.

  “Mysk texted me this morning. Wanda is almost done,” he said.

  “You mean he fixed her? She’s running and everything? I didn’t realize he’d picked her up already.”

  “Yes. He said fixing her was easy. He has a few more mods to install, and then he’ll bring her back.”

  “I can’t thank him enough. Or you, for arranging it.”

  “My pleasure. Mysk said he enjoyed it, too. He’s always seeking new projects.”

  Inferno and Mysk had done her a huge favor. She couldn’t believe the f
amous tech giant had worked on her car. She studied Inferno’s chiseled masculine features, warm, but kind near-black eyes. How had she ever considered them fiendish? He wore the usual ball cap, probably to hide his horns, the better to blend in and avoid the kind of reaction he’d received from her.

  “I’m sorry.” She still felt guilty.

  “For what?”

  “For how I reacted that first day we met.”

  “When you screamed and threw books at me?” His mouth quirked in a grin.

  “That was terrible of me. I’m sorry.” She squeezed his hand.

  They’d finished a complete loop of the park, but she was loath to leave; she was enjoying their stroll, holding his hand. It felt nice, reminiscent of old-fashioned courting of bygone days. If I had a parasol, we could steal a kiss behind the umbrella. Who needed a parasol anyway? They could kiss right now. Other than the geese, they were the only ones here—not that a quick kiss would scandalize anybody.

  Would kissing him violate the rule to go slow? Would it send a mixed message? She glanced at his full, sexy lips. So tempting…

  “Who’s Satan?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Satan. You called me that in the church that day.”

  Her face heated. How could she explain in a way that wouldn’t insult him or hurt his feelings? “Satan is…God’s opposite. He is sometimes depicted as having horns, red skin, and a tail. At first glimpse…with the light…”

  He halted. “Isn’t God supposed to be a creator? Don’t your people worship him?”

  Her stomach tightened. “Yes. Many do worship God. I don’t. I don’t believe in God—or Satan.”

  “If God is a creator and Satan is the opposite, then he would be a destroyer, something evil.” He flinched and dropped her hand like he’d been burned. “That’s what you thought of me? That I was evil? That I’m like the Xenos?”

  “No, it’s not like that.”

  He backed away. “How is it, then?” he snapped. She could hear the hurt behind the anger.

  “I’m sorry.” She wrung her hands. “My calling you that was…a brain glitch. It didn’t mean anything. I don’t believe it. I don’t think of you like that at all.” Even with mindfulness, a person couldn’t totally free herself from programming. One could consciously reject religious paradigms, but the pervasiveness still unconsciously influenced you. And working for my uncle doesn’t help! Her knee-jerk reaction had appalled her.

  He shook his head then raked his hands through his hair. He bumped his own horns, and his face tightened, and she knew he was recalling her description of Satan. Coal eyes flashed red. “I need…to leave. I feel the need to go slow right now.” He spun on his heel and stalked away, cutting across the grass.

  “Inferno! Wait, please—” Geneva choked. He ignored her. Tears sliding down her cheeks, she watched him cross the park. When he reached a clump of bushes, the hover scooter briefly appeared, and then he vanished behind the force field. Moments later, swaying branches signaled he’d left.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Inferno zoomed away, a hurtful fire burning in his gut. Satanic? That’s what she had thought of him—that he was evil like the Xenos who’d destroyed every living being on his planet? She said she didn’t believe it, but she’d thought it, and she’d said it! No wonder she’d hurled books at him and ordered him away from her. No wonder she wouldn’t give me the time of day.

  Maybe she isn’t my genmate.

  He dismissed the idea immediately. Certainty still resonated bone deep, but right now, he almost wished he could forget her and start over.

  He sped past the Church of Argent. Voices raised in song drifted out of the building. The soothing, peaceful music beckoned him to go inside, and, for a split second, he was tempted, but Geneva worked there, and he wished for no reminders of her. How could she have believed that of me?

  He upped power to the scooter and zipped down Main Street to the highway. He couldn’t go home. Psy would be there. One glimpse, and the Verital would know something was wrong. Inferno didn’t want to talk about what had happened.

  Both hearts clenched with pain. Pressure built and churned, demanding release.

  He flew down the highway, no destination in mind, but then found himself on the road to Lavender Bliss Farm. From there, he veered over the gravel lane winding toward the fields. In the gazebo, he could sit and breathe the delicate perfume of lavender, calm himself, and figure out his life. But first, he had to expend the pent-up emotion before he immolated. Stopping the scooter, he hopped off.

  The conflagration coalesced in his belly and shot into his limbs. Thrusting his hands out, he pushed the energy out his fingertips in a stream of fire, engulfing a bush alongside the road. Snapping and crackling, the blaze leaped to the surrounding foliage. Flames roared and began to spread.

  “Herian!” He dashed to the scooter for an extinguisher and put out the blaze.

  Horrified, he studied the blackened, denuded shrubbery. He’d almost started a forest fire that could have torched his friend’s lavender farm, maybe her house!

  Dejected and ashamed, he remounted the scooter and guided it to Kevanne and Chameleon’s dwelling. He trudged to the door and knocked.

  Kevanne opened it, and her gaze flew to his face. “What’s wrong?”

  “I set your bushes on fire,” he confessed.

  “It’s burning now? Cam—call the fire department!”

  “No, don’t—I put it out. It’s okay, really.”

  “Well, then, come on in.” She ushered him inside. “I made lavender lemonade. Would you like some?”

  He nodded. “Thank you.” He took a seat in the living room.

  “You don’t look so good,” Chameleon said from his chair, his thick lizard-like tail curled around him.

  “I’m all right,” he lied, almost envious of his friend. Blue and tailed in his natural form, Cam could change shape and appearance, personify other beings, including humans. The ability had enabled him to assimilate into Earth society much faster than the rest of them. If I could look more human, would she like me better? Probably, but what would he gain? A mate who couldn’t accept him as he was? He couldn’t live a pretense.

  Kevanne carried in a tray of lavender-infused lemonade and passed him a glass. Sweet and cold, it helped to lower his temperature.

  “Okay, spill it,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Things not going well with Geneva?” she guessed.

  Cam shot him a sympathetic glance. “He doesn’t want to talk about it.”

  “Yes, he does! Why do you think he came here?” Kevanne insisted.

  Inferno stalled, taking a sip of his lemonade then setting it on the side table. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he studied his feet. “When Geneva first laid eyes on me, she thought I was an evil Xeno.”

  Cam jerked, and Kevanne dropped her jaw. “A Xeno? That’s what she said?” She shifted her gaze to Cam before focusing on Inferno again.

  “Not in so many words, but that’s what she meant.”

  Kevanne scowled and crossed her arms. “What words did she use?”

  “She called me Satan.”

  “Satan and Xeno are not the same thing!” she snapped at him.

  “Satan is a destroyer, Geneva told me. Well, so are the Xenos,” he replied. Why was Kevanne getting angry?

  She placed her hand on Cam’s shoulder and glowered. “Not all Xenos.”

  He could have kicked himself. “No, not all Xenos. I’m sorry, Cam. I didn’t mean you,” he apologized. He’d forgotten Cam was a Xeno because they considered him an honorary ’Topian.

  Cam had been a member of the Xeno Consortium, and, when the high council had voted to destroy ’Topia, he’d opposed it and secretly evacuated as many people as he could. He’d risked his life during the bombardment to launch the Castaway and get the six of them to Earth.

  “It
’s all right.” Cam squeezed Kevanne’s hand. “Inferno is not wrong. ’Topians have every reason to hate and fear the Xeno Consortium. They are creators and destroyers both, kind of like the Earth Hindu god Vishnu.”

  “But you’re not like that!” she said. “You are not a destroyer.”

  “No. And my brothers know that. They accept me for me—”

  “That’s true!” Inferno nodded.

  “Although I did have to prove myself. They were suspicious of me at the start.”

  With shame, he recalled that, too. Cam had anticipated the reaction he’d get if he revealed himself to be a Xeno, so he’d personified one of the castaways. When the personification failed, and his true form had been revealed, they’d almost airlocked him. To save himself, Cam had allowed Psy to read his mind and verify his good intentions.

  How can I blame Geneva for leaping to conclusions about me when we all did the same to Cam? She had come around on her own. While she’d initially misjudged him, she had realized her error. She’d tried to explain that to him, but he’d been too shocked and hurt to listen.

  “I keep doing the wrong thing. I assumed once I found my genmate, everything would fall into place.”

  Kevanne and Chameleon laughed.

  “We had a rocky beginning,” Cam said.

  “Thinking Cam was human, I’d hired him to be my handyman, and, when I saw his real form the first time, I screamed and threw him out of the house,” Kevanne said.

  “Delia had assumed Wingman was her daughter’s imaginary angel friend until he showed up for Izzy’s birthday party. She kicked him out,” Cam related.

  “Psy and Meadow almost broke up after Mentira planted false memories in Meadow’s mind. And you remember how Shadow almost left Mandy?” Kevanne asked.

  “I guess bonding isn’t easy for anybody,” Inferno said.

  “Tigre still hasn’t found a genmate, and neither has Mysk, and he’s been here for decades,” Cam added.

  The facts still didn’t solve his problem, and he dragged his fingers over his scalp in frustration. “Everything I do is wrong. I bought her flowers. She had seemed to like them, but then I found out she didn’t. I put my feelings down on paper. She didn’t like that, either. I feel our bond getting stronger every day, but she doesn’t. She wants to go slow—whatever that means.”