Demigods (9 page)

"Did they create you to be so charming?"

As flattering as this was, it quickly brought him to realize that she had no idea that she was so unique. As far as he knew, she could think that she was commonplace, and certainly, she was far from it.

"We need to get you inside," he finally found the strength to say before stepping out of the car, and making his way around it to treat her like a gentleman would.

"Thank you," she told him as he opened the door, genuinely impressed by his manners, and for a moment, as she stepped from the car, she held his gaze with a sensual smile. "A gentleman is someone that I was never allowed to meet."

This both flattered him, and ripped at him, as it delighted him to please her, but the reason that it pleased her should not have been. He was really beginning to despise the people that he worked for, because of what they had done to such an innocent woman, though still he had to keep his mind thinking clearly.

"I'll go get what you need, Kitten," he said as he opened the door to the room, and the glow in her eyes, from the euphoria that came from him calling her that, simply melted him. "Don't answer the door for anyone but me, and keep the curtains closed."

She simply nodded, still smiling as he turned away to see if anyone was watching. He then closed the door behind him, and headed back to his car.

This was when it hit him like a ton of bricks. He was beginning to fall for a G.E.O., and he was seeing just how well that had worked out for Ryan and Mirage. He was in a coma in Venice, supposedly put there by her, and she was to be hunted and killed like an animal.

Sure, he knew that she would have never willingly harmed him, but this did nothing to change the story from a tragedy to a romance. Romeo and Juliet loved each other dearly, yet still, in the end they were both quite dead.

Sitting, he pulled the seatbelt across his torso to click it in, though about jumped out of his skin as his eyes made contact with something that was not supposed to be there.

"I want to go with you," Viper told him from the passenger seat, with a look of innocence that paralyzed him, and before he could even ask how she had done that, she continued.

"If you get me to a computer," she explained in a tone that made him realize that she really wanted to go, "I can disable the security cameras at the mega-mart, so that they won't even see us together."

He still sat there with his mouth wide open, so she reached over, and closed it for him as she smiled.

"Even I don't know what size clothes I wear," she said as her soft, green eyes completely captivated him for a moment.

"Good point," he responded as he put the car into reverse, and backed out. "You can't be in my lab coat if I can't revive you, and naked isn't a very dignified way to be found dead."

Truth was, he would have done pretty much whatever she asked of him. At the age of thirty, he was too young to be her father, but was rather a bit older than her lover should be, so he convinced himself that a brother would do no less for his sister.

This, he also found hard to grasp.

*            *            *

Walking into the mega-mart, she stared intently at the old man that was there to greet them, and he stared intently back at her, while oddly enough, this produced a moment of jealousy within Charlie until they passed that point, and she turned to look up at him.

"I had to distract him," she slightly scolded as she grabbed his hand to walk by his side as though they were a couple. "I have naked feet."

He almost corrected her, to tell her that they were called bare feet, but determined that he liked the sound of naked feet even better. Little did he know, she already understood that.

"Shoes first then," he said as he began to guide her to that department.

The walk there seemed as though in slow motion to him, as thoughts both raced and exploded within his head. One topic was about how much trouble he was going to be in, while the next was about how little he cared about that. She was, by far, the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen.

He began to feel sorry for Ryan, for the most beautifully created woman now walked beside him, holding HIS hand. Certainly, this could end better than their tragedy had.

"I want tennis shoes and high heels," she said, interrupting his euphoria, though it was a welcomed interruption.

"Then we should find blue jeans, and a dress after that," he returned, though she was quick to change his mind,

"Nice looking tennis shoes," she told him as she gently squeezed his hand, determined to get what she wanted, "and a comfortable pair of black, dress slacks."

How could he disagree, when a woman's behind could look so nice behind a nice pair of slacks, but for a moment, he almost thought that he was thinking about her far too much.

"He made me try on outfits," she said as her face grew somber, remembering the memories that they had given her.

This was an awkward pause, as she seemed to fall into a moment where her past seemed to consume her thinking. He knew that these moments would come, though still he did not know how to react.

"I will not allow them to consume my mind anymore," she said with a grin of uncertainty, as she released his hand, and then began to walk the rows of shoes, before turning to look back at him.

"Would you find me some socks?"

She held his eyes for a moment, yet he felt compelled, eventually, to do as she requested. How could he refuse such a simple request, despite the fact that he did not wish to leave her, for more reasons than one?

He had been the one to program her computer capabilities, and although he did not have any part in the torment that he was beginning to realize they had placed upon her, he still felt guilty.

Slothfully and emotionally, he made his way to the socks. He did not know which ones he should grab, but figured that the smallest ones that he could find were likely the best option.

How could they do those things to her? He did not even realize to what extent they had gone, though he could tell that they were things that hurt her badly. He could only wish that he would be able to comfort her.

Thumbing through the socks, he found the ones that he figured would fit her best, but a tap on his shoulder made him jump, and turn to see her smiling up at him.

"How do I look?"

Just that fast, she had found her black slacks, and a gray sports bra to go with it, and she was the picture of loveliness. How she had gotten them on, and made her way back to him, he could not figure, though why should he question perfection?

"You look beautiful," he managed to say, as his eyes simply looked her over. The way that she turned and danced to properly display it, made it impossible for him to do otherwise.

"Do you like it?" she asked as she finally paused, yet with opened jaw, he had only four words to say.

"I found your socks," he replied.

The grin grew large upon her face as she saw the stupor that he was in, and she snatched up the socks before sticking her tongue out at him, for the simple fun of it, and then walked off to the dressing room.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth, Charlie," she said in slightly more than a whisper, and then entered the small space.

How could he, Charlie thought, when she seemed to be enchanting enough to control his every motion? Surely, she was created to be this way, but how could they have done so well at it, that someone like himself would find himself without control? He figured that he could better control himself, but was beginning to wonder why he should even try.

For a moment he thought that every woman should be created by men, yet he had quickly determined that every woman would not willfully accept this, and for good reason. Still, he was here with one so stunning, and she was not influenced by the trials that all women go through, and that being the understanding that men are inherently dogs.

This woman would not judge him like other women would. She would not see him as being flawed, simply because he was male, and not even a good specimen of it. She was as innocent as Mirage was, and she was smiling at him.

Just then, something dawned on him. Why did she go into a dressing room, simply to put on a pair of socks? This question, however, was quickly answered as she stepped from the small room.

Like an angel, she stood there in a firm fitting, strapless, red dress that dropped just above her knees, while showing enough of her cleavage to still make it seem slightly modest. He was not someone that had done it often in his life, in any situation, but he desperately wanted to make love to her right there.

"You like it then?" she questioned as she twirled about to show it off so gracefully, and certainly he did.

"We have more important things to get here," he managed to stutter out, but it was only an excuse to battle his mind away from the feelings that were overwhelming him. Why he even tried to resist, he still struggled to understand

"After you," she said with a tilt of her head, as her eyes drew him in once more.

*            *            *

For the remainder of their time in the store, she had consumed his thoughts and emotions, yet as they drove back to the motel room, he began to remember what she was asking him to do. Sure, he was willing to help her in any way that he could, but what if he failed?

If he failed, she would be dead, and he would have to see it happen. He had never seen a dead person before, other than his grandmother in a casket when he was quite young, and the thought of seeing Viper on the floor, motionless, was a very scary one.

Certainly, he had never seen someone die, either.

Just as before, she seemed to sense when he was distraught, and quickly moved to comfort him.

"Even if you can't revive me," she said as though knowing his thoughts, "I will die with someone that I love."

"
Wow!
" he thought to himself. The sound of it was surely pleasant, though this might be considered a bit fast, and he wondered if it was the bird from its egg that would think that the first one it saw was its mother. Surely, she didn’t think that he was her mother, but what if she was programmed to fall in love with the first person that she saw after awakening?

"You don't have to love me," he told her with a timid shake of his head, "simply because I helped you."

"They made me a lot smarter than that, you silly," she explained with a friendly smile and a playful slap on the arm. "Love, as a verb, is defined as someone that you care a lot about, and helping me is only one of the things about you that lead me to that."

Now, he was the one to feel like the foolish, naive child, rather than thinking that it could be her. Love comes in many forms, and since the only other person that she had ever known was the program that they had cursed her with, it would only make sense that she would love him on some level or another. They would have likely never given her the chance to love anyone, if they had the choice.

"Could you stop, and buy a bottle of champagne?" she asked with her beautiful, green eyes, ever stirring his inner being. "I want to celebrate after you successfully revive me."

"Aren’t you only supposed to be eighteen?" he questioned, yet the scolding look that she threw back at him, forced him to realize how silly a statement it actually was. In reality, she was only eight months old, but in that same reality, she deserved to celebrate however she wanted, if he could actually keep her alive.

"Sure," he told her, and the smile he gave her did well to cause her to smile back at him, and that was more than enough reward.

*            *            *

Quietly he sat on the bed in the modest room, attempting to attune himself to the task that stood before him. How could he have ever agreed to such a thing, knowing not only that it was something that he had never had to actually do, yet was also something that he had learned so long ago? There had to be a better way.

Standing, he began to pace the room, fearing that the outcome might not be a favorable one, and his mind raced as if he might still discover a better option. There was not one quickly forthcoming.

"Are you okay in there?" he questioned as she prepared herself in the bathroom.

"I’m fine, Charlie," she called back, knowing his doubts. "Now stop worrying. I'll be ready in a moment."

Moment? That was the root word of momentous, which was the magnitude of the task that he would have to perform, and he had no doubt that he would be unable to stop worrying. At best, he could do the task without panicking, which was something that would turn it from a momentous task to an impossible one.

"I'm ready," she said softly as she stepped from the bathroom, having changed from the red dress, back into the black slacks, and the sports bra, which did well to reveal the area that she needed to operate on.

"I don't know that I am," he sighed, as he looked her up and down. "You are so tiny, and even if I can help you, I might hurt you as well."

Smiling with her head tilted downward slightly at an angle, and her enchanting eyes gazing up at him, she sauntered her way to where he stood motionless, and placed both hands upon his face as she raised her chin to him.