Authors: Jaime Rush
Nicholas said, “Parallel dimensions. So this world exists right alongside ours without us even knowing about it?”
“Precisely. Ours and many others. In our dimension, a different organism became the dominant species and humans became extinct.”
“Neil said they self-destructed,” Eric recalled.
“In a matter of speaking. A bacterium, what you call a biological weapon, was developed by one country to kill off its enemies. It only affected the brains of humans, not animals or plants. That was why they embraced this particular weapon. It didn’t condemn the natural world, the innocent creatures, like a nuclear weapon does. It was unleashed on the intended enemy, and the destruction was complete.
“But no one could have predicted how virulent the bacterium was. Or how well it would travel on air and ocean currents. It contaminated the water supplies, drifted into the air of one country after another. It took twenty years, but it eventually killed every human being.” He smiled. “But we were underground, and we were not human.”
“What are you?” Fonda asked.
“We are called ‘Callorian.’ From the beginning of our race, we lived underground but monitored what was happening on the surface, what we called Surfacia. When the last of the planet’s humans died, we came up to see what was left. And we liked being on the surface, feeling the sun, the colors, the variety of animals and plants and bugs . . . everything the humans had taken for granted.
“So we took over all those abandoned places and built a new world. But a carefully constructed one. Each country is managed by what you would call a president or king; we simply call them leaders. Each leader is answerable to the Collaborate in all things, like your United Nations, but with power.
“Having watched humans succumb to their emotions, they were forbidden in our society and eventually grew dormant. There is no anger or fear or egos. We have no wars or feuds. We don’t age as quickly as humans because of this. We use our sixth senses as a regular part of our lives, unlike here where it is considered an anomaly or something to be feared. We protect our planet. Aggressive, manic, or overly sexual behavior is extinguished. And if one breaks the law, he or she is executed by the Collaborate.”
“How do they know if the person is guilty?”
“They are mind-scanned, which is usually fatal in itself. Very few people break the laws.”
“And you might have to answer to these people?” Fonda asked, her attention fully on him. “Because you saved us?”
He nodded, a slow, grim nod. “There was no other way. You fought well, but Malcolm would have killed you and Eric. And the others”—he looked around to include them all—“would have died, too.”
“You might be executed?” Eric said. “Or mind-scanned?”
“I will face the consequences, whatever they might be.”
Eric said, “You told me that we matter to you. Obviously we do. Why?”
Pope’s mouth quirked in that odd way again, though no emotion hit his eyes. Of course, he
had
no emotions. “In a way, I’m your brother.”
He gave them a moment to digest that, and Eric swore he was enjoying it in his deadpan way. “Because the ozone layer has been compromised by the humans, cracks have been forming in the wall between our dimensions. Sometimes a Callorian accidentally slips through. The meteorite Wallace thought he saw was actually one of our aircraft, and it crashed. The pilot died on impact, the aircraft shattering.
“My brother, Allistair, was assigned to collect the pilot’s Essence and the pieces of the aircraft. He missed one small piece of Essence . . . the piece Wallace found. When he ingested it, it became part of him, then part of the subjects in the first program, and now part of you. That pilot was our father.
“As a Liaison, my role is to interface with and monitor those from Surfacia who study your world by taking a human guise and living here. While on a mission here, I sensed my father’s Essence, which was very odd since he was deceased. I tracked it to Wallace. That’s how I learned about the first program. I couldn’t tell the Collaborate because that would mean my brother failed in his duty to retrieve all of our father’s Essence, which would incur a stiff penalty and loss of honor.”
Eric saw the faintest flicker of emotion when Pope talked about his brother. Maybe emotions hadn’t been completely bred out of them. “Would they kill him?”
That flicker again, though Pope’s voice remained neutral. “Possibly, if they knew his mistake exposed our dimension to yours. And since I knew about it and did not report it, I now have committed an act of treason.”
Eric leaned back in his chair. This was way better than being a friggin’ alien. “So where do Malcolm and Neil fit into all this?”
“They are two of our people who live here. Obviously, Malcolm has done an exemplary job, which is why no one believed me when I tried to report that they were up to no good. Not to mention they are the sons of one of the leaders. I suspected they’d killed their last Liaison, Simeon, who disappeared. I believe it is a form of his Essence they used to infect people. They were seduced by the emotions here and began to crave chaos, something lacking in our dimension.”
Eric asked the question that probably nobody wanted to think about. “What happens if this Collaborate finds out about us?”
“They will destroy you. You have the potential to expose our DNA, and thus, our dimension. We don’t want humans to find the portals. Occasionally they do, and they are immediately destroyed. That is why your people sometimes disappear without a trace.”
Rand leaned forward. “So UFOs, weird phenomena, that’s you guys?”
“Or those from other dimensions.” He looked at Nicholas. “All those parts you saw at the warehouse, those were from rogue or errant planes. I store them in a building I can make disappear at will.”
“You let us find it,” Nicholas said.
“I wanted to see what you would do, just as when I hired you to find that piece of aircraft with the symbol on it.” He nodded toward the Eye on Eric’s arm. “I see you’ve adopted it.”
Zoe said, “That’s why I dreamed it. Because it’s in my DNA. But what does it mean?”
“It is a symbol for highly elite pilots and spies. My father was one of those. He was training in an experimental aircraft when he lost control and came through a crack.”
Eric nodded, relieved that the Eye wasn’t for the Collaborate itself. “That’s cool.” He grinned, looking at his tattoo. “The highly elite.”
Petra rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother.”
Pope stood. “I’m being summoned back. They have obviously sensed that I used my power to kill.”
Fonda stood, too, facing him. “Can’t you just stay here?”
“If I stay, I become a Scarlett, an outlaw, the very thing I am sometimes tasked with hunting down. I would dishonor my family and disrupt a long history of high-ranking service to our leader. But I will not reveal your existence. Unless I am mind-scanned.”
Eric stood, too, feeling strange looking so far up to the man. “How many of us are there? There were only so many people in the program.”
“My sister,” Nicholas said.
“Jerryl had a sister, too,” Fonda said.
“Cheveyo,” Petra said, her eyes getting gooey and dewy. “Maybe he’ll come around now.”
Pope said, “More Offspring than you think. One of the participants donated sperm to a bank for infertile couples.” His eyes sparkled at that, or maybe it was the words that came next as he looked at Amy. “By the way, you’re pregnant. Eat well and take care of yourself. Oh, one more thing: Eric, Zoe, Lucas, the phony charges against you have mysteriously disappeared from your police computers. You’re free to go back to your lives, all of you.”
There was a flash of light, and he was gone.
“That’s wild,” Rand said, scrubbing his fingers through his spiky hair.
Petra stalked over and shoved at Eric’s chest. “You fell in love! You, of all people. That is so totally unfair.” She stomped off.
Eric looked at Fonda and shrugged. “She’s just jealous because she can’t be with the guy she’s in love with.”
A moment later Petra ran back toward him and threw her arms around him. “I love you. I was so worried about you!”
He hugged her back. “I love you, too. Cheveyo will come around one of these days.”
She leaned back, hope on her face. “You think so?”
Not really, but heck, what did he know? “Sure, why not?”
Amy hugged him, too, and introduced herself to Fonda. Then they were all thanking her for saving Eric’s life, and before long Fonda’s defensive demeanor melted. When conversation shifted to Amy being pregnant, to their lives now, Eric took Fonda’s hand and turned to the group. “We’re heading out. I don’t think I ever want to see this place again.”
There was a murmur of agreement.
He leaned close to her ear. “Give me one more minute.” He looked at Lucas. “Bro.” He nodded toward the storage room behind the kitchen.
“You’ve forgiven Amy?” he asked when they were alone.
“Yeah.”
“Fonda tried to kill me. That’s how we met, and please keep that to yourself. But because she lured me out that night, I didn’t get trapped here. So in a way, she saved all of us by trying to kill me, as crazy-assed as that sounds. Because Amy gave you the antidote, you didn’t go insane and join them. It might have gone a lot worse if you had. So go beyond forgiving her. Get down on your knees and thank her. You know I’m no expert at love—”
Lucas’s laugh was more like a bark. “You’re a total newbie. So you’re not angry that Fonda gave you the antidote?”
Eric shook his head. “My woman did what she had to do to save me. I don’t know if it was out of love then, but she cared enough to risk her safety to get me to Magnus’s. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to be putting up with me for a long, long time. I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time about getting involved. I can see that when you meet the right one, logic goes out the window.”
Lucas held out his hand, and Eric clasped it in a shake. “Welcome to the crazy world of love. Best place to be.”
Eric knew everything would be all right. He could go now. He went back, grabbed Fonda’s hand, and pulled her into his room. “Remember this place?”
Her cheeks colored. “I feel awful about that.”
He swung her into his arms. “You saved not only my life, but all of our lives, because you tried to kill me.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll ’splain later. I want to pack up my stuff. I’ll come back for the paintings, or maybe, since I now have my own sensual, alluring woman, I won’t need them anymore.” He tightened his hold on her. “I do have my own sensual, alluring woman, right?”
She stepped out of his arms and turned toward the door, and he got a sinking feeling in his stomach. But she didn’t walk out. She closed the door, turned, and threw herself against him, burying her face against his chest.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she said on a breath, over and over again, like a burst dam. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and her emotions saturated her voice.
Hearing those words filled every hole in his soul, every need, every want. He held her close, stroking her back. “Hey, hey, hey, are you all right?”
He bracketed her face and pulled back to look at her. Tears shined on her cheeks and dotted her eyelashes.
“I’ve been fighting everything I’ve felt for you for so long, first because I was supposed to hate you, then because I was afraid that what I felt was the protection thing, then because I was afraid . . .” She wiped at her tears, shaking her head. “I didn’t risk my life to take you to Magnus’s because of a fear of feeling
guilty
. I saved you because, even then, I loved you. I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself, but I know it now.
“What you did to me, touching me so tenderly it almost hurt, what you said before we left the motel, God, Eric, you killed me, just killed me right there. But we had to go, and all I could think about was telling you I loved you, but it was such a bad time to do that. When I saw Malcolm shoot one of those bolts right through you, and I thought you were dead . . .” She squeezed her eyes shut, more tears streaming out.
He rubbed them with his thumbs and then kissed them away.
She smiled. “See, this is the kind of thing that made me love you. You’re sexy as hell, fantastic in bed, strong, gorgeous, but none of that mattered. Do you have any idea how incredible you are?”
He laughed, leaning close to kiss her mouth. “No, but keep telling me.”
“Take me home, Eric. To our home. I want you in my bed for the rest of my life.”
He widened his eyes. “You mean like a sex slave?” He pretended to mull it over, his finger on his chin. “Mm, I like that idea.”
She nudged him, and he grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles. She walked over to the painting of the female angel, a man kneeling before her. “Let’s keep this one. It’ll look great in our living room.” She turned back to him. “Let’s go home.”
Home. He liked the sound of that. No, he loved the sound of it. He pulled her into his arms. “I already am, baby.”
A
big fat thank you to everyone who helped me get things right:
Steve Kantor for answering plane questions, like how to murder someone via prop! Good thing you know I’m a writer. And a shout out to Anne Marie, too!
Antonio “Tony” Sanchez, MSM, CLET, Captain, Biscayne Park Police Department . . . you da best!
To critique bud Marty Ambrose.
To Terri Garey for vintage clothing help, and for writing fun ghost books.
To Eric and Fonda, for being such fabulous and fun characters to write. You made writing my story so easy.
To my editor, Tessa Woodward, and my agent, Joe Veltre, for your guidance, support, and enthusiasm.
To my support team at Avon, including but not limited to Pamela Spengler-Jaffee, Shawn Nicholls, Megan Traynor, and Wendy Ho.