Parallel Seduction (28 page)

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Authors: Deidre Knight

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BOOK: Parallel Seduction
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"Dead to the core."

"We could have questioned him." Chris's temper flared; they hadn't come this far to lose the opportunity for interrogation.

"You can question the rest of us, and we'll actually cooperate." He nodded, glancing down the hallway. This little pissing match didn't matter, at least not right now. Hope was somewhere in this warehouse, very possibly still in grave danger.

"We have to find Hope."

Jake pointed up the stairs. "They're up there."

"Did you see them go up?" he asked, not sure how the alien was so certain of his sister's location. The man only smiled in return, a strange kind of smile that Chris couldn't read.

"Trust me. I just know where she is."

"Then let's stop wasting time," Chris shot back, barreling up the staircase.

H
ope reached the top
of the rickety stairs, and Scott took hold of both her shoulders. "We're safe up here, I think, at least for now."

Below them there were voices, and she wondered if he could hear them, too. She knew her hearing had become very keen in recent months, even as her eyesight faded.

"Someone's down there," she told him, and he stiffened beside her.

She listened as he walked a short distance away, his footsteps echoing off the sound of decaying wood. "This is a grain shaft," he hissed. "There's a long, spiraling tunnel."

She pressed against the wall behind her. "What are you saying?"

"Nothing yet."

But she got the picture, all right; if they were cornered, Scott meant for the two of them to go barreling down that shaft as if it were their very own water slide. Only no water—and no idea of where they would land.

She listened intently, and heard footsteps down below. "Someone's coming!"

Scott grabbed her arm, jerking her forward into the darkness that always enveloped her. "We've gotta get out of here."

"No—wait." Something told her that whoever was on the stairs below wasn't their enemy.

But all at once an explosion rocked the stairwell, driving her down to her knees and causing a rushing wind to rend the very air between them.

Jake! It was Jake, here trying to rescue them. Only she didn't have time to explain that twisted, bizarre story to Scott, not right now. If the two of them came too close together it could possibly destroy them both.

"Scott! That grain shaft—we need to take it, and fast!"

His strong arms wrapped about her, and she hugged him back until they were formed together as one unbreakable line. "On my mark, and I'll lead us in. Three, two, one, now!"

With a slight tumble she found herself spiraling through darkness, clinging to Scott as her feet caught against   metal   and   wood   beams   and   thousands   of prickling invasions of her body. Round and round and round they went, down and down. She wanted to throw up, and if not for Scott's unrelenting hold on her, she probably would have.

Just when she thought she'd pass out from the upending plummet, they crashed against softness. Thank God that something had cushioned their fall.

Beside her, Scott groaned. They'd landed in a smallish pile of old grain or feed or something like it. The smell was stale and mildewy, and she covered her nose with her sweater sleeve. Groping in the darkness, she felt Scott's leg.

"I'm all right," he told her preemptively. "You look okay, too."

"Look, if I'd wanted to go to Wild Waves, I'd have told you so," she joked, and he chuckled softly in return.

"As in, you ride those sorts of things? Like with water in them?"

"You really have been living on Earth."

Out of nowhere she heard thundering footsteps, a group of them, and her whole body tensed until a very familiar voice cried, "Harper! Thank All!" It was Anna, and she felt the alien's arms wrap about her neck. "You're safe now—we've totally decimated the bad guys."

She buried her face against Anna's shoulder, crying despite herself. Anna continued, "Now, this guy? I might just leave him here for all the trouble he keeps causing me."

"Hey, now." Scott grunted. "Show a little respect to your commanding officer."

"Respect this!" Anna countered, and although Hope couldn't see the gesture, she had a pretty good idea that certain things crossed galactic lines.

"That's funny," a male voice interrupted, "I was just going to teach you a few things about respect." Hope heard several weapons engaging.

"Crap," Anna muttered under her breath, pulling apart from Hope.

"What's going on?" Hope asked, glancing wildly about the dark, confined area.

"That's Dayron, one of Veckus's understudies."

Scott spoke next. "We can talk about this—you know you're surrounded."

"And I just might want to take you out before I go," Dayron replied smoothly.

A weapon jabbed into Hope's ribs. "Get up, human." She struggled onto her knees, feeling the ground to gain her balance, but a noise behind them all caused her to hesitate. It was thundering, like a rushing, metallic river—and was coming right from the grain shaft that she and Scott had barreled down just moments earlier.

"What's that?" Dayron shouted. "Whoever it is, I'm going to kill them."

The sound of gunfire echoed off the interior of the shaft. "FBI! FBI! Drop your weapons!"

Tears welled within Hope's eyes; it was Chris, already firing a warning shot before he'd fully landed. More gunfire erupted, and then a few shouts as Hope felt herself thrust to the ground beneath Scott's body. "Keep down," he warned her hoarsely.

She nodded, but then there was only the sound of heavy breathing and shuffling steps. A hand clasped her arm. "Get up—now."

Oh, shit,
she thought with a grin, tears streaming down her face. Atop her, Scott stiffened, still covering her with his body. "It's okay." She gave a grunt, shouldering him. "That's my brother, Chris."

"That's all you're gonna say after I just saved your ass?" her twin barked, dislodging her from beneath Scott and jerking her to a standing position.

"It's freaking great to see you!" She flung herself into his arms. "Does that work better?"

She could tell he was about to release a few explosive words, but they were interrupted by several USAF soldiers, people dragging them in various directions.

"We're still going to talk," Chris warned her, and no
matter how menacing he was trying to sound, she just couldn't stop smiling at him.

O
utside the warehouse
, Scott was shocked to see a full array of human military personnel. Air force, as unbelievable as that was to take in. Someone had thrust a blanket around his shoulders, and he surveyed the brightly lit landscape all about the warehouse. In the middle of their battle morning had arrived, bringing bright, sparkling daylight to the blanket of snow. Out of the mayhem Marco McKinley appeared, leading him toward a waiting medical transport.

"I want to go with Hope," he argued, but McKinley held up his hand.

"I need to debrief you on a few things," the Madjin warrior told him. "You need to come with me."

Scott halted. "I want to go on the transport with Hope—what, I can't do that? After everything that's just gone down? Besides, since when do you call the shots?"

McKinley put an arm around his shoulder and kept walking him farther and farther away from the warehouse. "I'll explain it all en route, sir."

"No. Right here, right now." He stood his ground, refusing to take another step.

"Maybe I'm the one to do the explaining," Hope called out, walking toward him with her hand through the crook of Anna's arm.

Scott scowled at her, whipping his gaze about the area surrounding the warehouse. There were so many soldiers—Refarian and human—he couldn't quite determine what was going on.

"He needs to get on that transport, Ms. Harper," McKinley argued.

"Fine, and I'll go with him. I can talk to him on the way to your base."

McKinley cast a cautious look about them—and suddenly Scott understood. Everything came driving home with the full impact of a battering ram. "It's Jake Tierny. You don't want me encountering him again. Because of what happens when we do."

Hope's expression grew grim, but she said nothing.

"Is that what happened in the stairwell?" He raised his eyebrows, glancing between Anna and McKinley, but neither seemed willing to talk.

"Let me do it," Hope said, and a gnawing feeling of dread began to build inside of him.

"Hope!" Scott spun to find Chris approaching her. "Hope Harper, I swear to ever-loving—"

"Don't you dare start with a lecture!" Hope's entire demeanor changed. She'd already encountered Chris briefly by the grain shaft, but there hadn't been time for more than a few words between them. Now it seemed the siblings were about to have some sort of colossal reunion, and Scott could see the duo was already bucking for a fight. Scott stifled a grin; he'd never had a brother, at least not a natural one, but he knew how things could get between him and Jared on occasion.

"Lecture?" Chris approached her, his blond eyebrows knit together in a stem expression. "A lecture? Hello, sister darling, you just about got yourself killed—"

"I am fine!" She slugged Chris hard in the arm, punching at him again as he ducked away.

Scott watched in amusement as the twins battled it out, then hugged and held tight to each other. Marco gave his arm a slight tug. "I really think they need some time," the warrior whispered quietly. "And there are things you need to understand."

His words brought Scott back to their conversation—to the fact that Jake Tierny posed some sort of unique threat, a personal one to him and him alone. "All right then," he agreed. "Let's board the craft and you can tell me everything."

S
cott sat on the floor
of his shower, letting the water pelt him across the back. Marco had been right—he definitely needed time to process these new facts. What could you say when you learned of a life terribly led? One of death and murder and madness?

What could you possibly do when you learned that a future version of yourself had done the one thing you'd always sworn you wouldn't do: assume a human's body?

He leaned against the shower wall, pressing his eyes shut. Sure, he'd stopped a killer, but that the motivation had been Hope's murder? The murder of their unborn daughter? He felt physically ill with the reality of it all.

"She'd been sick," McKinley had explained in even tones. "Her diabetes caused a lot of problems in her pregnancy."

And all Scott could think, sitting here on the wet floor of his shower stall, was that he'd been the one—undoubtedly he had—who'd prevented her from getting the genetic therapy she needed. The same fears that were propelling him in this time had driven him in that alternate life as well.

The gnawing anxiety that if she took the therapy something—anything—might go horribly wrong.

Hell, even knowing how it had ended for her, he still felt that way.

What of Jake Tierny, no less? He had a future version of himself loping about the camp, laying claim to the woman that he loved—he, Scott Dillon. He'd be damned if Tierny would have her, no matter what he'd shared with her in the future. Except that, according to Marco, Jake had been absolutely certain about one point—the man had no plans to get in the way of Scott and Hope's relationship, not in any way.

Honorable bastard. So like me,
he thought,
to do something that foolish and shortsighted. How can he let her get away?

Staggering to his feet, the welts on his back stinging from the impact of the water, he turned the nozzle off and just stood there. Stood and thought for a very long time. Hope was down in the medical area, getting treatment. He'd heard from Shelby that she was going to get the laser surgery done today as well.

Definitely, he needed to go see her. Now, not later. Only something—some invisible hand or force—seemed to pin him right here, in the shower. Inside his quarters; it just kept holding him away from her.

He couldn't begin to think what that force might be.

Chapter Twenty-five

J
ake entered his commander's
sanctuary, the upstairs study where, back in this time, his king had so often strategized and meditated. Jake would never have interrupted the man's solitude, but he didn't have any time to waste—not when, at any given moment, he might encounter his younger self and cause the very heavens to shake. He had to hit the road—and fast—but first he needed Jared to sign off on the plan he'd been concocting. After so many battles together, and so much time under his commander's leadership, there was no way he'd take off without getting his best friend's approval.

Jared looked up from where he sat cross-legged on a large throw pillow, appearing visibly dismayed. "Jakob, you're bleeding!"

Jared immediately bounded to his feet, getting a good look at Jake's blood-soaked T-shirt. Jake had already stripped out of his jacket, but the superficial wound had been drawing a lot of blood—far more than actual pain—out of his human-hybrid body.

"Just a surface wound." He waved his king off. "No big deal, honestly."

"But you will go straight to the medical complex after this, correct?" Jared insisted with a stern expression.

"Of course, my lord." Jake gave a slight bow. "But first I've come to seek your approval, sir."

Jared assessed him quizzically. "Go on."

"I wish to pursue the human whose life I stole in the future: Jakob Tierny. I must know
who
he is and why he killed my wife and baby."

"I thought you'd already exacted your vengeance."

"It's not about vengeance." Jake shook his head adamantly. "It's about Tierny's role in our war. I don't know how he's tied to the Antousians, but I'm certain that he is. He was there, on the battlefield that day"—he closed his eyes, forcing himself to continue—"before he killed Hope. He's in deep with them, J; I just don't know
how.
That's what I have to find out."

A strange look came over his king's face. "You're the only one who has ever called me 'J.' Since we were mere children, S'Skautsa, you've always called me that."

Jake smiled. "Jakob. That's what you call me there, in the future."

"Then I shall continue calling you Jakob here, in this time."

"I would like that." Emotion overtook Jake, but he forced himself to continue. "No matter who I've been, you have always been my brother and best friend," he said.

Jared bowed his head, and Jake swore he saw tears gleam in his commander's eyes. "Our friendship is a deep river, isn't it?"

"Always has been."

"So what of our future selves, then?" Jared's voice assumed a heavy tone. "What will happen to us now that you have prophesied such doom and destruction? That is the world that you left; how do we know that anything has really been changed?"

"You've already averted the attack at Warren. And that battle was the beginning of our future end. And Earth's."

"I'm not sure that fully eases my concerns, not with what you've told me about the world you left behind."

"That future no longer exists. Those people—you, Kelsey, all of them—are part of an alternate time now. They're nothing more than reflections in a mirror, glimpses we might catch occasionally, shadows in our blind spots. I mean, they do exist, but they don't have relevance here in this world except to warn us of our possible mistakes."

"I don't understand."

"Before I traveled back via the mitres, Kelsey told me that if I changed things here—in this time—that the future I was leaving would become an alternate one. That it would be a sort of shadow world. As it turns out, it wasn't me who changed things, but Marco McKinley." Jake burst into laughter. "So ironic … a man I hated, whom I blamed for so much hell that rained down on all of us, is now my ally.
Your
ally! Unbelievable, the way time keeps playing us all for its fool."

"But what you've seen, we can learn from it."

"We can always learn, and we'll continue to see the side glimpses. What Scott has seen of the life I myself led … even though he may not lead the same life, he can still see what to avoid, and what to embrace."

"Like knowing that he belongs with Hope."

Jake blinked. "Yes, like Hope Harper."

"I can't believe you can walk away from her." Jared snapped his fingers. "Just like that. She was your wife. Certainly I'm torn on this matter—both versions of you are so close to me—but … are you sure, Jakob?"

"You know me—really know me, J. Think about it."

Jared growled. "I could never let another man have Kelsey."

"Scott Dillon isn't just any man, though, is he?"

"Fair enough," Jared said, but continued to study him with a vaguely perplexed look. Jake knew it was partly because as long as they'd known each other, the many years they'd spent together—first playing as children, later fighting as men—Jared still didn't have a firm fix on the man he had eventually become.

"So I have to locate the real Jakob Tierny, chase him down, figure out what he's doing with the Antousians. He's a murderer, and it's not just that he killed Hope—it's that I have to stop him before he can kill anyone else."

"Won't that be a problem, considering you look, well, identical to the man?"

"It's
a risk I'm willing to take. I can't exactly stick around here, allowing the universe to unhinge every time I encounter Dillon, can I?"

"Nor can you watch them together."

"That, too," he admitted gruffly. "They have a future, but all I have with either of them is a whole lot of past. I've gotta figure out where my own future leads me."

"Do you even know where Jake Tierny is in this time? Where he lives?"

"Where he skulks or strokes the underbelly of society, you mean? Yes, I actually do. Anna did a ton of research for me. He's living in Texas right now. Hell's Creek, Texas, as crazy as that may sound. There really is a place called that."

Jared quirked an eyebrow. "Are you certain you're willing to go to Hell's Creek? I'm not sure that sounds like a very good idea."

"You always were far too ironic, sir."

"Is it near a major city, this Hell's Creek?"

Jake shrugged. "Not particularly, which ought to make ol' Jake pretty easy to find."

"Last I heard, there wasn't a nest of Antousians down that way."

"Our Texas base was destroyed by the bastards, sir, with all due respect."

Jared winced. "However, our intelligence never indicated that any Antousians made camp or headquarters in Texas."

Jakob took several steps closer, clasping Jared by the forearm. "But we never learned what our enemies were
truly
doing in Texas—and it's too much of a coincidence that Jake is living there now. The base being firebombed
plus
Tierny's presence? My money's on a connection."

"You'll report to me regularly?"

Jake dropped to one knee, placed a fist over his heart. "You are my king and my lord forever. Nothing can change that, not ever. Of course I will do all of this under your aegis."

Jared clasped his shoulder. "And you will be careful and watch yourself, Lieutenant?"

Jake bowed his head, unable to find words. To feel his friend and king's love, even though he now existed so utterly out of time, was almost more emotion than he could process. "Yes, my lord," he whispered.

"Then go, Jakob, with my blessing and approval," Jared said. "So long as you promise to eventually return."

"O
kay, put your wounded
ass right up on that table." The woman patted the examination table beside Jake, giving him an unreadable glance.

"You do know who I am, right?" He eyed the blonde medic uncertainly, but she just laughed.

"Yeah, I've heard that from you before." He didn't understand at first, but then he caught her meaning when she added, "From Lieutenant Dillon, I mean. When he was first in here, I was his night nurse. It was sort of a joke between us."

So the whole camp had heard the truth about his identity by now: Of course they had. In these tight quarters, gossip flew at the speed of light. "I meant, you know I'm Antousian," he clarified.

She patted the table again. "Same as the lieutenant."

"You know him well?"

"Let's just say I have a soft spot for the ornery guy. And so that means—at least in a way—I know you, too."

"It's a fucked-up mess, isn't it, Nurse Tyler?"

"You could say that too." She laughed, but then her smile faded. "If you don't mind my asking, sir, why didn't you fight for her? She was your wife, the woman you loved. I don't understand. I see how much you care for her."

"It was the right thing to do."

"That's sweet. You're letting your younger self win."

"Oh, it's not about Scott. I'd take her from him in a heartbeat if I could. In a heartbeat."

"Then why didn't you?"

He brushed a hand through his wildly disheveled hair. "I did it for her; it's always been about her, no one else. She deserves a pure future, to be happy and have that life we once lived. Only better, without the pain and death that I caused her."

"You didn't cause it, sir. She was sick."

He said nothing, knowing the real facts, but not wanting to debate them yet again. He'd already fought these battles with Hope. "I'm letting her go because I love her."

"That has to be incredibly tough."

"I never thought I'd feel so jealous of myself. What is it with that guy? He has all the beautiful ladies."

She narrowed her eyes, studying him. "You're plenty handsome, sir. Maybe even more so than he is."

Glancing downward, he studied the body that never felt right, the skin he always felt wrong living inside. Tattoos, scars, swarthiness: It all belonged to another man—a man he'd hated—and the body never gave up its secrets. "I don't see it," was all he said.

"Are you blind, Lieutenant?" She reached to the side table, producing a mirror. "Look in here. Really look—you're a beautiful man. Still. In this body. You'll find love again."

Gazing into the mirror, he met a stranger. For three years he'd lived in this body, yet it felt as awkward and unnatural as the day he'd first stepped into it. He was a killer, a thief. No way could he feel handsome, no matter what Jake's body and face looked like. He dropped the mirror onto the bed.

"You'd better look at this"—he gestured toward his blood-soaked shirt—"so I can hit the road. I've got a long way to go."

"Where you headed?"

"Texas."

Something odd registered in her eyes, a passing look of melancholy, but she only nodded, patting the bed. "You're going to have to lie down, sir."

"Please," he said, reclining on the examining table, "call me Jake."

Very gently she lifted his bloody T-shirt, exposing his bare abdomen. She winced slightly as she examined the wound, reaching for bandages and tubes of antiseptic.

"That bad?" he asked, watching her eyes.

"No … I just hate the Grateful Dead. All their music sounds the same."

"Who?"

She glanced up at him in surprise. "Your tattoo, sir—uh, Jake."

"That skull and the roses?" He'd always despised that tattoo most of all, and had wanted to curse ol' Tierny for having covered his stomach and back with so many grotesque emblems. But the one on his abdomen had never made any sense.

"You really have no idea what it means, do you?" she pressed him with a quirky smile.

He rolled his eyes impatiently. "Tell me, Nurse Tyler."

She dabbed at his wound. "They're a rock band. Got a huge cult following, and these symbols—the rose and the skull—mean that your man Jake was into the Dead."

Into the dead,
he thought with a grim laugh. That was definitely one way to put it: Jake had loved killing, plain and simple. Maybe he'd stolen this band's imagery because it made a larger point about what he valued
in life: death.

"Makes a lot more sense now." He jerked reflexively as she applied medication to his wound. It stung like hell, and he cursed in Refarian.

"Sorry," she said softly, bending over him as she worked. Her sleek blonde hair reminded him of Hope's,
and he had to battle a painful spasm of yearning for his wife.
She's not my wife anymore; she's going to be his.

"You know," she continued, "whatever you're doing down in Texas, you'll have a tough time of it if you don't know any more about human culture than this."

"I know plenty!" he barked. "I've lived on this planet for more than sixteen years."

"Uh-huh." She sounded thoroughly unconvinced.

"Just because I didn't know about that damned rock band—"

"Household name, sir."

"Jake. Call me Jake," he half growled at her. He wasn't Scott Dillon, and he didn't want her treating him like he was.

"I'm just saying. You know, Texas is a whole other world than this part of Wyoming. Better know that heading in."

"I'm more American than most Americans."

"Texas is its own little country, Jake."

"You got a better idea? Hey! Watch that!" he snarled, grimacing with sharp pain as she swabbed at his stab wound.

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