His Human Hellion (Ultimate Passage Book 2) (2 page)

Finn

It was time to bring the matter up again. He felt that time was like this burden that was threatening to take him under, and more importantly, to killing Marissa. “You can’t be pregnant with my child.”

“What the heck does that mean? What are you accusing me of? You know you’ve been the only one.”

“Wait. You don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand what? What’s there not to understand? You pretty much just called me a slut. That’s not hard to understand.”

“No, it’s not that. That’s not what I meant. You can’t be pregnant. You can’t have a child. You can’t have my child. It will kill you. Listen to me, Marissa.”

“Uhm, yeah
.” She put her hands on her hips, those eyes flashing. “You better expand on that.”

“Asazi babies, boy babies are born with their wings. Their mothers die in childbirth if they try to
give birth without surgery. You call it a caesarian here on Earth.”

“What?”

“The babies are too wide, the wings tear up the mother’s birth canal, and the women bleed to death. No woman has survived the birth. Not Asazi and not human. That’s how my mother died.”

“But that’s only on boy babies? What if I have a girl baby?”

“Asazi girls don’t have wings. Only the males.”

“So what are you saying?”

“You need to have a procedure so you don’t have the child.”

“You mean an abortion.”

“Yes, that.”

“Hell to the no.
Not a chance. No way, no how.”

He took her by the shoulders, trying to impress the severity of it on her.
“I won’t have you die. I won’t lose you.”

“
And I won’t kill an innocent baby. Especially when I don’t even know if it’s a girl or a boy. Not that it would matter. I wouldn’t kill it either way.” She looked up at him. “I have an idea. How about if I have an ultrasound.”

Finn sat at the table. Now what? It was like he couldn’t do anything right. He knew what
he needed to do. He needed to contact Kal. He needed to talk Marissa into not having the child.

Marissa

Yeah, Marissa’s idea sucked. She wouldn’t have an abortion if she found out it was a boy. That wasn’t happening.

Finn was quiet for a moment. His silence worried her. So did his coloring. It was fluctuating so quickly. The one color she wasn’t seeing was green. He was definitely not at peace, and not calm.
“No. what if the person who does that ultrasound sees wings on a baby. They would have you tested, then you’d be taken to a lab, the baby would be tested. No, no. Not agreeing to that.”

She understood his point. “Abortion is still not an option.” She thought of her dad, no, she wouldn’t kill his grandchild. She wouldn’t kill her child. She’d have to figure something else out. “Do you have any
other ideas?”

“One or two.”

She dreaded what he was going to say. Thus far it hadn’t been remotely acceptable. “Go on.”

“We could have a doctor or midwife come out here to deliver. If it seems to be an issue, they can do a caesarian. Then I can kill them so they don’t tell.”

She sat back in her chair. Stared at him, disbelieving, rose, paced the room, still stunned. “Have you lost your mind?” She was starting to see the soldier in him, and she wasn’t sure she liked what she saw. Where was the man who saved her life? Where was the man she fell in love with? Then she had to remind herself, he wasn’t a man. He was an alien. A creature from another place. A place that was different. To hear him tell it, a place where war and death were everyday occurrences, but she knew he had emotions. She’d seen them. His suggestion horrified her, but she kept a poker face. “You said you had one or two ideas. What else?”

“We go to my home
, to Kormia. Doctors there are equipped for this and if you have a boy, unlike human doctors, Asazi doctors won’t call the media and you won’t become a guinea pig in a lab.”

“Oh really? I call bullshit on that. Remember
Target 41? That was me. Yeah. I was almost a guinea pig in their lab.” It wasn’t that long ago, it still upset Marissa. The thought that they would have invaded her body, and she still wasn’t certain what the team would have done to her. One thing for sure, she did believe Finn when he said he didn’t know. She believed that he was a good man—Asazi—who followed his orders like any good soldier would. Without asking questions.

“That was before
. . . I’m sure now that . . .” He didn’t finish.

She knew why he didn’t finish. Because he couldn’t be sure of a single thing. Who knew what kind of reception she’d have on his planet.

“I don’t think so. I’d rather stay on Earth.”
Come hell or high water.
But she didn’t add that.

“Marissa.” His color changed, almost a purple color. The darkest she’d ever seen it
, the saddest he’d ever been. “I can’t lose you. Let me talk to Kal. See what we can do.”

“Do you even know what they think about you over there? What he told them? What he may have been forced to tell them happened to you? Did he tell them you’re dead or AWOL?”

Finn didn’t respond.

Finn

Finn definitely had some questions for Kal. He needed to find out what his situation was on Kormia and he needed to figure out what his and Marissa’s options were.

Surely there was a solution. “Won’t you reconsider? Let’s go to Kormia. You can have the baby. Then we can all three return
back to earth.”

“You don’t even want it.” Her tone was accusatory. Green eyes even greener, bloodshot from crying.

It felt as if he’d been struck a physical blow. “Of course I’d want it.” He rose from the kitchen table, walked to the window over the sink. The golden pastel hues of an Arizona sunset covered the western horizon. Finn swallowed the lump threatening to block his throat. Cursed human emotions. Like his wings, his emotions had become stronger, more prevalent. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air that was different from Houston, and very different from his home planet. In the window’s reflection, his Asazi skin was blue. It showed his emotion, as it always had. Blue to match his sadness, one that heralded a feeling close to dismay. He never turned into his human form around her anymore, she seemed to completely accept his Asazi self.

He turned to face Marissa once more. She was still seated at the table—head down
and in her hands.

“I wouldn’t put any child, or anyone above you. Maybe if it were born already I’d feel different.” He wondered if she could understand that at all.

She probably thought he was a monster, completely unfeeling.

Marissa took a deep breath, raised her head, chin on her hands, elbows on the table. “Would it make sense if I told you I want to visit my father’s grave? To talk to him?” She rubbed her eyes with closed fists, like a child.

Her statement hit close to home. With his father gone, Finn could relate to her feelings. “It would. After I lost my father, I would go to a special place he and I shared to commune with him. Or his spirit. Who knows? I’m not sure what I believe in anymore.”

“How long has your father been gone?” She approached, wrapped her arms around him, under his wings,
and rested her head on his chest. Her hair was still wet from the shower and smelled of honeysuckle and jasmine, her shampoo. How accustomed he’d become to the scent of her, the sound of her, even the taste of her. She was his solace now that he had no one else. His father was gone, Nana was gone, and Kal was far, far away.

He thought of his father, of all the wonderful memories. “I was a teenager. It was a decade ago.” He kept his voice platonic. There was no reason to show her how much pain it still caused him,
especially when coupled with Nana’s recent passing. He’d never felt so alone—except that he had Marissa. Now she wanted him to be placid about being pregnant—something that could kill her? He leaned against the counter, wrapped his arms around this woman, this beautiful specimen of human womanhood who on occasion became a spirited hellion. How did she come to mean so much to him so fast?

She made tiny circles with her index finger on his abdomen. “How did it happen? Losing him?”

“Kormic. Killed in battle.” A wave of grief and renewed hatred for all things Kormic washed over him. “His body was never recovered.” He put his hand on hers, stilling it.

A soft sob escaped her, muffled by his chest, as if giving voice to his pain.

He kissed the top of her head. “I will not lose you too.”

She raised her eyes to his, hers even more bloodshot than earlier. Much more red than a few moments ago. “Mine had cancer.”

He’d heard of it, this thing called cancer. Luckily, Asazi did not suffer from that particular disease. “I am sorry.” Now he had to break the bad news to her. “I can’t let you go to Houston by yourself.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

He placed a fingertip over her lips. “Wait. Listen. It’s too risky. I can’t have you so far from me when you could be in danger. You’re a missing person to the authorities. Your stalker-ex could be lurking. Worst of all, if there are any Asazi soldiers or recon teams around . . .” He tipped her chin back, kissed her lips. “Why don’t you give me a couple of days? Maybe less. I need to talk to Kal, see if he has a solution.” He poured confidence in his voice, or at least hoped he did. “Then I can go to Houston with you.”

She stared out the window, looking at the distant horizon, wordless, her face expressionless.

Marissa

Marissa fought the wave of nausea as morning sickness took over. She wished she could remember all the old wives’ tales about which gender created morning sickness in expecting mothers. She thought of looking it up on the internet, but was worried that anything she did on the computer at the ranch house would be recorded for the Asazi, assuming someone monitored the computers and access here at the ranch, and she figured someone did. Someone had to. Didn’t they? If the faction that was trying to move to Earth peacefully through assimilation was small, were they too small to monitor? There were just too many unanswered questions. Too many things she didn’t understand.

But as far as Finn’s request went, she gave him three days. She did. She tried to wait patiently. It wasn’t easy, considering she had a baby growing inside her that he said would kill her and one that he seemed to want to eradicate. She understood his reasons. If she thought something threatened Finn’s life, there was no telling the measures she’d take.

Finn said he sent a message to Kal the first day, then another the second day. He was bound and determined not to leave until he talked to Kal. Why couldn’t they go? If it was a simple email, that shouldn’t be an issue. Except that Finn said that before Kal left for Kormia, Kal advised him not to use the cell phone to contact. He said Kal didn’t tell him why, exactly, just that the computer at the ranch was more secure for transmissions. She had to wonder if they were overreacting. How could the Asazi be so divided about the methodology surrounding their people’s move to Earth?

So here they were,
he left two messages to Kal, both unanswered. Marissa’s fear was that when Kal did answer, he’d call for immediate action and her timeline to visit Dad’s grave would be shot.

She knew Finn wouldn’t leave before he talked to Kal. Unfortunately for all of his occasional spats of rebelliousness, Finn was a good soldier. He was trained to follow rules and had a hard time diverting from them and from plans. So she knew if Kal called for him to do something and it countered her plans, she’d have an argument on her hands.
Right now the last thing she needed was an argument. She rubbed her forehead, pushing the nausea back.

She couldn’t handle most days as it was, the way her stomach felt, and a blowout about traveling—no, she didn’t want to deal with that.

Finn’s side of the bed was empty. She wondered if he was down in the tunnels below the ranch. He’d taken her down there once. It was too creepy and she was way too claustrophobic for that.

He said it was a good place to keep people hidden if needed. She wondered if that was their real purpose. Or even their original purpose. She thought it was a good place to have
if you wanted the dirt walls and ceilings to collapse around you. She passed on visiting and hanging out down there.

Maybe he was checking the fencing.

She felt bad for what she was going to do. She spent a sleepless night going over the options in her head, over and over, but she couldn’t come to a different conclusion. She absolutely had to see her dad—her dad’s grave. She’d sound crazy if she said she wanted to go see Dad. Now she’d become maniacal, obsessive about it, and even though she recognized this, it didn’t lessen her desire to do it. She brought his pillow to her face, inhaling his scent, taking it in, relishing his man-smell. Yes, he was definitely all man. She no longer thought of him as a being from another planet. He’d become Finn. He was Finn. Her man. Now the father of her child. She didn’t want to go to Kormia. She hoped Kal had some other options. But if he didn’t—

She shook her head.
As if shaking her head would shake the options up, create new ones.

Jumping out of bed, she reached for the duffel bag she’d resisted packing yesterday. Yesterday
, when she thought she’d give him one more day to hear from Kal, one more day to come up with an option, a solution.

Her vision was a blur as she swiped the tears away. She knew that Finn wouldn’t be happy about this. He’d be downright angry with her. But
it wasn’t like she was going to stay in Houston. A day’s drive there, a day there, and a day’s drive back. She’d be back in three days. She grabbed a notepad from the nightstand and left him a note.

I’ll be back in three days. Have to go see my dad’s grave. Will think of options while I’m gone. Will even consider your options. Look forward to hearing what Kal says when I get back. Please don’t follow me, I don’t want you to abandon your post or get in trouble for that.

She went to write the words
I love you
, paused, and then realized that she had to do that. She had to let him know what he meant to her.
I love you
. She signed it,
Marissa
. Grabbed the bag and her purse. She buried her hand in her purse, seeking her cell. Her fingers closed around her pepper spray. She’d carried pepper spray since she was near-mugged outside
Two West Two
more than three years ago. She contemplated leaving it, then thought she should have her head checked for even thinking that.

She
reached for her burner cell phone and powered it down. Kal had given them both disposable phones that were on plans which couldn’t be traced. Burner phones, that’s what they called them on TV—it sounded so spy-ish. If she didn’t turn her phone off, Finn would be able to talk her out of going. Her feelings for him were too strong and he could sway her way too easily, if only to convince her to wait a bit. The other thing the phone could do, but she didn’t want to think that he would be a party to that—of course he wouldn’t—the phone could be used to trace her location. She wouldn’t put that past the Asazi. If they were willing to take her eggs—or something—she didn’t think they’d stop from tracing her whereabouts with a GPS locator type of system in the phone. She took a few tentative steps to the front door, ascertaining he wasn’t in the house.

He wasn’t out front either. Only the
pickup was. Of course he wouldn’t take that. He flew around the ranch, careful not to be spotted. He only rode in the pickup when they went to town for supplies.