Parallel Seduction (29 page)

"Yeah, you need a guide, someone who knows their way around. I mean, if you're going after this guy, you won't get very far without someone who's just a little more, shall we say, savvy about human culture."

Struggling, he sat up and stared her in the eye. "How in hell did you know I'm going after Jake Tierny?"

She only smiled. "And I thought you were going to nab me about that pop culture observation."

"That, too!"

"If I may say so, sir, you are seeming more like yourself—your real self—with every passing minute."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

She gave his chest a shove, pushing him back down onto the table. "Nice and grumpy, Lieutenant. Just like my buddy Scott."

"I'm not Scott," he said, sighing deeply. He felt wearier than he had in days, years, maybe.

"Whatever. It's just good to have you back, sir."

His eyes slid shut, and only then did it hit him that she'd injected him with some sort of painkiller, one that was making him sleepy and sluggish. "What'd ya do that for?" he slurred, blinking.

"So the stitches wouldn't hurt."

"What's one more moment of pain?" he reflected sleepily, not really meaning to voice the question aloud.

Her lovely heart-shaped face appeared just above him, and she pressed her fingertips against his lips. "You've already hurt enough, Jake," she told him soothingly. "It's time you started to heal."

He nodded, drifting into sleep, and in his mind he saw a wide-open road, as long as the rays of the sun, and just as hot, too. Desert and tumbleweeds and oil fields spread in every direction, from north to south, east to west.
Texas
, he thought dreamily, and glancing around, he discovered someone unexpected.

Shelby stood there, right beside him.

"Yes," she murmured softly, "I'll go with you, sir. Right now, just heal."

H
ope lay in the hospital
bed, impatiently pulling at the bandages over her eyes. Three more hours to go, and they'd remove the freaking things—and she'd have confirmation that her eyesight had truly been restored. The medics had wasted no time after getting her back inside the compound; while they were treating her other wounds and getting her glucose levels under control, they'd made it sound shockingly easy to go ahead and
fix her eyes. Taking a giant step of faith, she'd agreed, knowing that these Refarians wouldn't promise what they couldn't deliver: She'd already seen that much in the past ten days.

So far she'd entertained some guests: Anna, right off the bat, and then most recently the only other human in the compound, their queen, Kelsey Bennett. She'd been the most reassuring of all, promising Hope
that, from the viewpoint of a scientist, the Refarians really could work miracles. They'd spoken in hushed terms for a while about the possible benefits of genetic therapy, but Hope couldn't shake Scott's dire reaction—and even the words she'd heard Veckus and Scott exchange on the matter.

But someone who hadn't visited her yet, who was absolutely conspicuously absent, was her only true love: Scott Dillon. Where was he, and why wouldn't he be coming around? She wanted to whimper and cry. With everything they'd shared and been through together, how could he blow her off like this? Could her heart have been so terribly wrong?

And what of Jake Tierny? He hadn't even so much as sniffed in her direction, at least, not from what she could gather. He'd saved her life back at the warehouse, but hadn't spoken another word to her since. Maybe both men were equally inscrutable in the final analysis, being, as they were, one and the same.

She blew out a miserable breath, closing her eyes beneath the bandages—then, almost as if in answer, she heard the soft echo of footsteps. Too soft, of course, to belong to either Scott or Jake. Listening closely, she called out, "Who's there?"

"Ms. Harper, it's just me," came the strongly Southern-accented voice of her nurse, Shelby Tyler. "Just here to check on you, that's all."

"I'm fine." She rotated her head toward the wall. Blind as ever with the bandages on, she still sought a reprieve from the hard gaze of anyone else, at least at this particular moment.

"Now, now," came Shelby's soothing voice, and Hope felt the woman patting her arm. "You can be honest with me, you know."

"I'm scared," Hope whispered into the blackness that engulfed her. "Terrified."

She heard her nurse settle into the seat beside her. "You've got nothing to be afraid of, hon. This surgery's going to have been a perfect score. You'll be seeing better than new in just a few more hours once we remove the bandages."

"It's not about my eyes."

"Oh. Ohhh, it's about your men, isn't it? I understand that problem completely."

"My men?" Hope coughed into her pillow, slowly turning back toward Shelby. "You make me sound like a bigamist. Or a very naughty girl, at least."

"We both know what I'm talking about … what we're both talking about here."

Hope blew out an exhausted sigh. "Neither one of them has come my way since we got back. Not with my surgery, nothing. It's like I've dreamed this whole surreal situation."

"Jake's taking off for Texas," Shelby volunteered in an even tone. "Says he can't stick around, not with you and Scott together."

Hope struggled upward in bed. "He can't do that!"

"He's got to do that, Ms. Harper. Don't you understand?"

She shook her head vehemently. "No, no, I don't—not at all." She'd planned on spending time with him—this future self of his—and getting to know him better. Not as a lover, but as the deepest kind of friend. Jake was in so much pain, and she'd pretty much convinced herself over the past day that once their hell was over, she could help him talk about his heartbreak. After all, who better than she?

"Well, for one thing, he can't be around Lieutenant Dillon, not if we want the universe to stay intact. It's dangerous for the two of them to be near each other."

"That could be worked around!" Hope argued, tugging at her bandages.

The nurse grabbed hold of her hand, pulling it away and back against her side. "Nope, don't go doing that, Ms. Harper. Leave the gauze alone. You've only got a few more hours to stand."

"Why is Jake determined to go so incredibly far away?" Tears burned her eyes beneath the bandages, but she blinked at them. It was bizarre—although he wasn't her Scott, not precisely, she still loved him deeply. How could she not, when the man was a slightly altered version of the one she'd fallen for so hard?

"He's going after the real Jake Tierny, your killer. He's determined to find out what that man's role in the war is—more than that, I think he wants to keep him from killing you again."

There were no words. Hope could only lie flat on her back and try to find her breath, but even that felt nearly impossible. "He shouldn't," was all she managed to mumble weakly.

"You know he ain't gonna be stopped, now, don't you?"

Of course, Nurse Tyler was absolutely dead on the mark, but it didn't ease the heaviness in Hope's heart. "Is he going to say goodbye to me first?"

The chair slid back across the floor, signaling the nurse's departure. "I can't say for sure on that. But
I
will definitely say farewell." The nurse bent over her and did something wholly unexpected: She kissed Hope on the forehead. "I admire you so much, Ms. Harper. You're my kind of gal."

Hope crinkled her nose, laughing. "Are you going somewhere? I mean, thank you, that's incredibly sweet, but—"

"Somebody's got to take care of our boy Jake. I reckon it might as well be me, just to be sure he doesn't get in too much trouble down Texas way. Plus, I lived there for the first few years I was on this planet, and I can show him around. All that."

Hope wasn't sure whether she should feel jealous or totally relieved. "I'm glad you'll be looking out for him," she whispered softly. "He's in so much pain."

As if reading Hope's mind, the nurse said, "Now, don't feel jealous. He and I are just friends; that's all. But I do think I can watch over his wounded soul."

Hope swallowed, still fighting tears. "I know it's stupid that I'd feel jealous when I can't be with him."

"Natural," the medic corrected her warmly. "Totally natural, darling. You love him—in any version you find him—and he's your soul mate."

"You really think so?"

"Heck, I know so. I've got a gift about seeing that sort of thing."

"I'm going to miss you, Shelby. You've been so kind to me."

"I'll sure miss your spirit, Hope," the woman said. "You've inspired me to be a lot stronger than I naturally want to be. You're tough and don't back down from a thing. I'm thinking I could use more of that in myself."

Hope felt the tears come in earnest then. For so many years she'd battled her illness, then her blindness, and the people who had commended her for her stalwart strength had been few and far between. Most of those who loved her had spent their energy trying to hold her back. "Thank you, Shelby. I'm glad you're my friend."

Shelby patted her hand one final time. "I could say exactly the same." She cleared her throat, adding, "You've got only two and a half more hours of these bandages. After that, I believe things are going to look a whole lot brighter for you. In every possible way."

As the unusual woman left her room, Hope wondered if she had some extra insight, some alien gift that allowed her to see beyond the moment; it always seemed that she perceived so much more than what was actually happening on the surface. If that speculation was true, then maybe Shelby was right: Her world was about to seem a whole lot brighter than it had in a very long time.

K
elsey lay on the doctor's
table, feeling the strange vibrations of the sonogram wand against her flat stomach. That her belly was still flat, with as much activity as she felt inside of it, amazed her. For all the life fluttering and glowing within her, she might as well have already been the size of a melon—now, just a few days after conception.

The words
five and a half months
had never stopped reverberating through her mind ever since Jared had uttered them. That would mean she should start showing in about another month, perhaps sooner. That was the sort of thing she hoped this Refarian doctor would be able to tell her.

He bent over her, moving the handheld paddle across her skin, and she felt tingling beneath it in reaction. "This is the sonogram?" she asked, trying to see the accompanying monitor.

"The optigram," he told her matter-of-factly. "We use more advanced technology."

"What's the difference?"

He rolled backward on his stool so he could see her better. "As the pregnancy progresses, you'll be able to see every feature of this baby. Whether he or she is in D'Aravnian or human form, what the child's face looks like. It's more like a direct image than a shadowy imprint."

"Wow. That's more than amazing."

The silver-haired man grinned. "Want to see right now?"

Her heart must have skipped ten beats. Finally she swallowed and whispered, "Of course."

He rotated the monitor, swinging it around so she could get a clear look, and what she saw was … a large, glowing ball. "In D'Aravnian form right now," the doctor interpreted needlessly. "Which explains all the burning you're feeling deep inside. That's typical at this very early gestational stage, but will change the further you progress in this pregnancy."

"If I progress?" She couldn't prevent the question from passing her lips.

"You'll progress," the man reassured her evenly. "There's no reason whatsoever to expect that you won't. Look at the baby. Can you see well from there, my lady?" He was being solicitous, but her fears hadn't been placated.

She stayed quiet, watching the nebulous, glowing ball within her, the way it swirled and moved. Their baby, she realized with a stifled giggle, looked exactly like Jared in his natural form. Perfect power and movement, unwilling to be contained.

Kelsey shook her head. "I just don't see how I can possibly carry this baby to term."

The doctor shut off the monitor. "My queen, do you realize that this baby is no different from countless other D'Aravnians over the many generations?"

"I know, but … I'm human."

"A perfect genetic match with the Refarians … well, close to ninety-nine percent, that is."

"But I'm not a ball of fire!" she cried, covering her eyes in shame. She should be stronger than this—for Jared and for the people who called her queen.

The doctor laughed softly. "Most of the women who have carried D'Aravnian babies were not beings of fire. Yet most of those children were born, lived full lives. You're healthy and strong, my lady. This baby will come to term." He patted her belly gently. "This is our new heir inside of you, and I have every faith that the baby will be born."

She blinked back at the man, thinking of all the assurances Jared had offered her, too. "What should I expect with such a short gestational period? When will I start to show?"

He stared down at his flip chart. "Oh, give it another two weeks or so."

"Two weeks?" she squeaked. "Not even a month?"

He grinned, almost as if proud of his own species. "Our kind doesn't waste time achieving what nature wants. By four months you'll be uncomfortable and wishing you were full-term."

"You are doing nothing—absolutely nothing—to reassure me, Doctor."

He closed the chart, holding it against his chest. "This baby is desired, no?"

"Of course!"

"Then enjoy this time of your life. You have so many wonderful days ahead of you."

For some reason, it just didn't feel as simple as that. Her entire stomach churned, her body was on fire, and all she could think about was one thing: that she couldn't wait to drag Jared back into bed.

"Thanks, Doctor," she told him with an opaque smile. Good thing that monitor of his couldn't read her internal desires, too.

H
ope sat in the overstuffed
corner chair in her room and blinked. Blinked and stared, swung her gaze first in one direction, then another. It was almost more than her heart could willingly accept: Her vision had been restored, and completely. No blurriness, no floaters, no occasional bright flashes. She rose to her feet and peered out of the small window, studying a snowdrift piled against it. They were in a basement of sorts, she now realized, because the window was high up and the drift practically blocked out all daylight. Snowflakes were frozen against the windowpane, etched onto the glass like the very fingerprint of God. Lacy, unique … that she could see them at all brought tears to her newly healed eyes.

Next she walked to the sink and stared into the mirror at herself; for the first time in more than a year she could actually glimpse her own face.
Man, I've got some dark circles. Have to work on that!
And her hair looked limp and tired, just like her body was. She found her brush by the sink and worked it through the straight length of her blonde hair, then rubbed at her cheeks. Being blind meant you didn't think about the absence of makeup, a situation she was going to have to fix right away.

Leaning forward, gripping the sink, she tried to figure out whether she'd gotten any wrinkles since she'd last seen her own face. Oddly enough, she looked relatively … the same. It was as if she'd taken a very long holiday from herself, a break, only to return and find that nothing much had changed. Totally weird, when you got right down to it.

A sound startled her from behind, and she spun to find a tall, brawny guy studying her. For a split second she wondered who it was, but then, breaking into a smile, she cried, "Jake!" and rushed to him, flinging her arms about his neck.

He returned her embrace stiffly, patting her kindly on the back, and she understood—he was already distancing himself. She pulled back, staring up into his startling green eyes, so light they almost seemed to glow against his olive skin.

"You can see perfectly, can't you?" Gently, he peeled her hands off of him.

She nodded. "It's an absolute miracle."

He pushed past her, but she followed right behind. "Did my future self have this same surgery?"

"Long, long ago," he answered solemnly.

"That explains it, then."

He glanced at her curiously. "I don't understand what you mean."

"When I dream about that future, I can always see the details … very clearly. I finally understood it was because that other version of me could see."

He gave her a melancholy smile. "You always had such beautiful eyes, and you still do."

She folded her arms across her chest, shivering in her hospital gown, watching him pace the room in agitation. "You shouldn't leave," she argued. "You don't have to go—you do know that, right?"

He chuckled low, closing his eyes. "Of course I have to leave. There's no place for me here."

"But you don't have to chase down my killer."

"I have to do that, too."

She planted a hand on her hip. "Tell me why."

He headed back toward the door. "I just came to say goodbye, Hope, not defend my actions."

"Just give me one good reason why you have to hunt down Jake Tierny."

He paused at the door, his hand positioned over the knob, and at first she thought he wouldn't answer. "Don't you know?" he finally said in a voice raw with unexpressed emotion.

"I'm not sure that I do. You need to live, be all right, here in
this
time."

"I need to find your killer, Hope … because I still love you. I will always"—he turned slowly to meet her gaze—
"
always
love you. No amount of time or space or eternity will ever change that fact."

She flinched, walking slowly toward him. "Let me hold you. Just one last time." She opened her arms to him. "Please, Scott, just let me hold you."

He buried himself within her embrace. "Don't call me Scott."

"It's who you are. No amount of time or space or eternity will ever change that fact, either."

"I'm so sorry I kissed you, let us get intimate—I never meant for that to happen between us."

"I can't imagine how you could hold back."

She felt dampness form against her cheek, his tears—Scott's tears—like that very first night he'd come upon her in the medical hallway. Very gently she stroked his hair, shushed him, and whispered words of never-ending love. "I will always love you, too," she pledged. "You've got to know that."

He nodded at last, pulling back, tears glinting in his light green eyes. "That's why I have to leave. I can't possibly stay."

And she got it then, understood completely—it was best for both of them, Scott included. So long as he stayed around camp or even nearby, her heart would always be torn in half. She'd feel a pull toward this melancholy man, one with whom she could never again share a future, and he would feel drawn back to her elusive promise as well.

"Please be careful in Texas." She stroked his cheek. "Don't do anything stupid, and let me know that you're okay—at least every once in a while."

He bent low, pressing a chaste kiss against her brow. "You can count on it."

And with that, Scott Dillon's other self swept out of the room, never looking back.

S
cott paced outside the
doorway of Hope's room, trying to figure out a way to simply go to her. He should have visited her in the hospital, should have been at her side while she underwent the surgery.
Should have done, should have done.
Already so many regrets for such a young relationship.

Shelby had directed him up here, to Hope's quarters, explaining that her eyesight was fully restored, and that she was feeling strong and healthy—but not without also letting him know that Jake Tierny had definitely made a point of paying a visit of his own.

Sometimes, truthfully, Scott knew he could be a total loser. Like with all the women whose beds he used to warm, but whom he'd always left so easily before daybreak. Yet Hope was anything but a one-night stand. So why did the thought of seeing her terrify the living hell out of him?

Simple: She'd never actually seen him. The idea that, if he chose to knock on her door, she'd look upon him completely … well, it was worse than being cornered in the most brutal of firefights. Worse than being trapped in reflexive metal. In fact, it might be more than he could possibly overcome.

Human women seemed to find him plenty pleasing—he wouldn't have had such good luck around the bars and getting into bed with them if that weren't the case. But this was Hope—his beloved Hope. What if she laughed in his face, as Anna had once done? What if she found him hideous? He was average at best, but he could make up for that fact in bed, as he had proven many times over. Still, one look at him might be enough to change Hope's feelings permanently.

And so he paced. And paced. And dithered, and thought he might absolutely expire from the terror of the whole proposition.

"What in All's name are you doing out in this hallway?" Anna called to him.

"Trying to figure out my next strategy."

She planted herself in front of him, blocking his movements. "Just stop it. Right now, sir, stop this asinine behavior."

"I'm sorry?"

"Stop all the obnoxious self-loathing and go in and see that girl. She loves you, for crying out loud. You don't need to overanalyze this thing."

"Excuse me, Lieutenant, but what makes you think you have the first clue as to what I'm thinking at this moment?"

She leaned in close, grasping him by both arms. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"I don't think so."

"Our little roadside dance—you in your ghost state, me in my bird one. I followed you for miles while you chased her down." She pointed toward the closed bedroom door. "And you know what? She needs you right now, so don't be a selfish prick."

"I'll take that as an official dressing-down." He folded his arms over his chest, wondering where, exactly, friendship ended and impertinence began.

"Right indeed, sir!" She stuck her chin out proudly, her dark eyes twinkling.

"What makes you so sure you know the drill here, huh?"

"Let's just say I've gotten to know your pal Jakey quite a bit these past couple of days."

Scott groaned. "Oh, him."

"Yeah, him. And he's given me some new insights into my very good friend and superior officer, also known as
you
,
sir. Ones that have helped me see a few things in a new light."

"Such as?"

"Why you're lurking out here in the hallway and not just going to her, sir. Especially when she needs you … and you so clearly love her."

Scott glanced up and down the hallway, praying they weren't being overheard, but before he could argue further, Anna blustered ahead. "Listen, you've got some pretty major misconceptions about yourself, sir. Vain ones, at that."