“I love you, Allie. No matter what happens, or what comes between us, I love you. And I don’t say that lightly. I have never loved anyone, or anything, the way I love you.”
His gaze locked with hers as he tried to tell her with his eyes what words could not say sufficiently, what even telepathy could not handle satisfactorily. “Do you believe me?” He waited what seemed eons for her answer.
Finally Allie knelt and leaned towards him. She kissed him on the forehead, along one broad cheekbone, and the corner of his mouth.
“I believe you,” she whispered, her lips moving gently over his. Her shining eyes found his once more. “I believe you. And I always will.”
Unable to deal with the depth of his feelings, unable to resist, he captured her lips in a soul-wrenching kiss. Her arms tightened around his neck and he pulled her closer, covering her body with his own.
Allie’s murmured “Now what about those secrets?” was lost to the urgent demands of love.
The illuminated face of the digital clock beside the bed said it was three a.m. Erik, wrapped in a hotel robe, stood barefoot on the balcony, looking out to the dark, watery horizon and, far above it, the moon still sailing the navy sky.
Behind that moon, though he couldn’t see it, was the space ship Idlanta III, waiting for a signal from him that he was returning with his human cargo, his mission complete.
He turned from the railing and looked back through the sliding doors to the motionless shape lying on the bed. To Allie, who had given him a gift he had neither wanted nor expected, a gift he knew now he didn’t want to live without. The gift of her love.
He sighed, misery seeping through every part of him, Zalian and Earthling alike. He hadn’t told her. He’d wanted to tell her. He’d known that he had to tell her.
But after her devastating statement that she believed in neither aliens nor destiny, he’d known it was pointless. He didn’t know much about love, but he doubted even Allie’s love was enough to make her understand or believe what he had planned to tell her, much less accept it. Why would she ever accept something that would remove her from her home, her family, her way of life and everything she loved, with no possibility of ever seeing or communicating with any of them ever again? Why would she want to go to a planet where her feelings, her relationships, her ideas—
and she herself—were scorned as weak and inferior? Why go to a place that would destroy the very essence of her being?
Knowing her the way he did now, he realized what a fool he’d been to ever think she would willingly agree to accompany him. A fool!
He gripped the railing. And now he no longer had a choice. He would have to do what he should have done the night he arrived. He would have to sedate her and kidnap her to fulfill his destiny.
Because whatever he may have learned on Earth, he was too much a Zalian to think that destiny could be denied. To fail to fulfill his destiny would mean the crumbling of the life and the acceptance he had worked so hard to build.
Zalian precepts could be harsh, and failure was not taken lightly. It was a fact of life that no one trusted a Zalian unable to grasp his fate. No one respected a Zalian incapable of achieving his destiny— especially a half-breed. If he did not fulfill his destiny, his life—for all intents and purposes—would be over.
His chest and stomach tightened. He averted his gaze from the moon, turning instead to the stars of the far off Milky Way, the other side of which resided his galaxy and his home.
Suddenly a thought more painful than anything he could have imagined stabbed his heart. He shut his eyes as the full horror of his dilemma struck home.
Without destiny, his life was over. But without Allie’s love, would he ever know happiness again?
Allie stretched, enjoying the lingering warmth of the early morning bed. The familiar, reassuring sound of water running reached her from the bathroom. She smiled sleepily, happiness seeping through her. Erik. Mmmmmm. Erik.
Fully awake now, she swung her feet to the carpeted floor and tugged the loose sheet from the bed. The only trouble with staying overnight at Erik’s hotel room was that she’d come unprepared.
No nightshirt, no housecoat, just herself. She smiled. Though she was sure Erik wouldn’t mind her lack of clothing.
She stood up and wrapped herself in the sheet.
The bedside clock proclaimed it was five minutes to seven. Good. There was plenty of time for a shower and breakfast, and then a swing by home for a change of clothes. Maybe other things too, she thought, smiling and flushing at the same time. Things she doubted she’d ever have enough of.
She started to hum, “Getting to know you, getting to know all about you . . .” Her stomach growled. She looked at the phone. Maybe she should order breakfast. Despite the kitchenette, there was no food in Erik’s apartment. And she was starving; probably he was, too.
The receiver was propped between her ear and shoulder before she noticed the card listing the hotel extensions was missing from the phone.
She looked around. The telephone listings, as well as a room service menu, had to be here somewhere.
She replaced the receiver and padded over to the desk. The magazines piled there included
People, Psychology Today.
Funny, she wouldn’t have thought that would be Erik’s taste in magazines. Maybe
Sports Illustrated
, or a photography or auto magazine. But it didn’t matter. There was no hotel directory, and no menu.
Undeterred, she opened a desk drawer. It was empty, save for a copy of the Bible. She tried the other drawer. Bingo! She recognized the burgundy leather cover of the hotel directory immediately.
Thank goodness. Just thinking about food was making her hungrier.
The directory out and in her hand, she caught the glitter of keys from inside the drawer. The drawer was almost shut before she realized there was something familiar about the key chain she’d glimpsed.
She reopened the drawer and pulled out the keys. She opened her palm to examine the chain.
It was a miniature steel copy of the bust of the Venus de Milo, complete with gaudy green rhinestones for eyes.
Recognition exploded inside her head. Her eyes widened. She gasped. Only one person she knew owned such an unusual but tacky key chain.
And that person was Cody.
Paralyzed with shock, Allie stared at the key chain. Cody Walker’s key chain.
A numbing chill descended over her. With it came a question too horrifying to face, too fearsome to voice.
Why did Erik have Cody’s car keys?
“Hey, Allie, you want to order up some breakfast from room service?”
Allie jumped at Erik’s voice. Her hand closed convulsively around the key chain; she barely managed to suppress a scream of fright.
“Room service is 11. I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.”
“S . S . .Sure. Right away.” Allie kept her back to Erik as she forced out the words.
The bathroom door shut.
Her heart pounding, Allie dropped the keys back into the drawer. Propelled by an increasing sense of panic, she scrambled around the room searching for the clothes carelessly discarded last night.
Afraid to think. Afraid to contemplate the meaning of Cody’s car keys in Erik’s keeping.
Afraid to stay.
Conscious of the seconds ticking away, she tugged her skirt and T-shirt from a chair, then crawled half under the bed searching for her underwear.
She found her briefs and scrambled
breathlessly into them. She tossed aside her pantyhose as too difficult and pulled on her skirt.
When she didn’t see her bra, she gave up on it and yanked the T-shirt over her head.
Panting, terrified, she looked around the room for her sandals. Where were they? What could she have done with them?
She ran one shaking hand through her hair.
She couldn’t wait. She grabbed her purse from the desk and made for the door.
She opened the door to the hallway and then remembered the car keys. She should take them.
But did she have time?
Terrified she dashed back to the desk, grabbed the keys and raced for the door.
As she shut it behind her, a shuddering sob of relief escaped. She had made it to the hallway without encountering Erik.
She looked at the keys in one hand, her purse in the other, as a tortured cry echoed through her.
Why, oh why does Erik have Cody’s keys?
She choked back another sob, looked furtively around, then ran barefoot down the hallway to the lighted exit sign.
Exactly seventeen seconds later, Erik sauntered out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped low on his hips. “It’s all yours now, Al—”
He stopped. Where was she?
“Allie?”
He frowned. Had she gone down to the lobby for a paper? He noticed her bra hanging from a lampshade. And there was one of her sandals, peeking out from under the dresser. He frowned again. It was unlikely Allie would go downstairs without her shoes.
He scanned the room. A crumpled sheet had been dropped on the floor in front of the desk. On the desk sat the leather-covered hotel directory, and in front of it gaped an open drawer.
It took a full moment before he realized what had to have happened.
The keys!
Cody’s keys. In his arrogant belief in his superiority and the inevitable success of his plans, he hadn’t bothered hiding them. He’d just tossed them into a drawer, and promptly forgotten them.
He crossed the room in two strides and yanked the drawer free of the desk. He looked inside, knowing what he was going to see.
The keys were gone. Cursing, he tossed the drawer onto the bed. How could he have been so stupid?
Worse, what did this do to his commitment to complete his mission and fulfill his destiny tonight?
Grimly, he pulled his jeans from the chair and yanked them on. With a violent thrust he closed the zipper.
There was only one way to find out.
“Hey!”
Allie looked up to see Kate’s bemused expression. She hadn’t noticed her friend, or anyone else, since she’d rushed into work only minutes before.
“You look a little hot and flustered for so early in the morning,” Kate commented. She assessed Allie, then smiled slyly. “And I do believe you’re still wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday. You haven’t combed your hair, either.
That wouldn’t have anything to do with Erik now, would it?”
Allie suppressed an urge to scream. Hardly able to contain herself, she looked at her desk and ground out, “Go away Kate. Just go away.”
Kate’s eyebrows rose. Surprise showed on her face, followed by a flicker of concern, and then an apparent decision to treat Allie’s bad mood with humor. “Ooh. That good, huh? I wonder why? But don’t worry. I’ve always been patient. I can wait until your mood improves. Until lunch, anyway.”
She waved a hand at Allie and turned away. “Catch you later.”
As Kate walked away, Allie concentrated on getting a grip. She’d rushed home, unable to think, not wanting to think, and grabbed the first pair of shoes she’d seen. She hadn’t even thought about a bra or combing her hair.
Get a grip
, she told herself fiercely. This couldn’t go on. She had to look at what had happened, at what it might mean, and at what she was going to do about it. Should she call the police? Or should she give Erik a chance to explain?
She took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind. But all she could see were the keys. Cody’s keys, and that horrid chain with the gaudy glass eyes of the Venus de Milo staring blindly at her.
Cody’s keys and all their deadly implications. The keys she could feel resting on her thigh through the thin material of her skirt pocket.
Why did Erik have Cody’s keys? She forced herself to think the unthinkable. Had he murdered Cody and dumped his body some place cold and faraway?
She shut her eyes and choked back a sob. She couldn’t believe it. She
wouldn’t
believe it. Not Erik. Anyone but Erik.
But the keys. What about the keys?
She slowly unscrewed her eyes and took another deep breath. Should she call the police?
she thought again. Who was Erik after all? The man she loved, or a cold-blooded murderer? No one really knew anything about him. Nate hadn’t even checked his references. And neither had she, despite Madame Carabini’s warnings.
A heavy weight pressed on her chest, making it difficult to breath. She loved Erik so much. She couldn’t believe he’d harmed Cody. She trusted him. She liked him. He’d saved her life, for God’s sake!
But what about the keys?
The insistent, deadly refrain refused to go away. Had she made yet another mistake in judging character? Was this her final, fatal mistake? Her mind conjured ever-worsening scenarios. Would it just be a matter of time before she disappeared too, her lifeless body joining Cody’s in that cold, faraway place of which the psychic had spoken?
But Madame Carabini had insisted Cody was still alive, she remembered with a start. Alive and in some place cold and forbidding, perhaps not of this Earth, whatever that meant. A place the psychic had also associated with Erik.
Allie gripped the rim of her desk. She had to pull herself together. To think clearly. To decide what to do. She’d get a cup of coffee first. Then, slowly and methodically, she’d review everything that had happened.
And when Erik arrived at work, as he inevitably would, she would confront him. Here. Quietly and carefully. In the safety of the newsroom.
But first, she had to do what she should have done a long time ago.
She picked up the receiver and dialed
The
Streeter’s
switchboard operator. “Janet,” she said,
“Get the
Sydney Examiner
, in Australia, for me.
Right away.”
Erik halted at the entrance to the newsroom and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 8:23
a.m., still early enough for the newsroom to be relatively quiet and free of employees. Good.
He scanned the room. Then his eyes narrowed.
Allie. There she was, sitting at her desk, looking at the computer screen, her fingers already flying across the keyboard.