Runner's Moon Trilogy Megabook Series (38 page)

Like the gentleman she knew he would be, Mr. G took her elbow and helped her out of the car. They walked into the popular diner and were shown a corner booth at the far end as he requested. Once they were seated, he ordered coffee for them both.

Sarah glanced around. She had no idea what time it was or how late it was. The world was still too surreal for her to come to grips with the present. The arms lying on top of the table belonged to someone else. The pale hands with the long, tapered fingers were not hers ... until the hunk across from her reached over and took both of them into his own hands.

It was like immersing herself in a tub of warm, fragrant water. Refreshing, energizing. Soaking into her soul and lifting away every bit of grime and revulsion that strange man 519

had tried to force upon her. Choking on a gasp, Sarah's eyes widened, and she looked up fully into the face of her Good Samaritan.

This close she could see there were a few tiny imperfections to the man's appearance. But those imperfections only enhanced his devastating good looks, rather than detracting from them. More astounding were his eyes, eyes that were boring into hers, as if he could see inside her and tell how she was truly feeling at the moment.

They weren't turquoise, as she'd originally believed, but she could see now why she had thought they were. They were actually a light blue with the most incredible green flecks sprinkled within the irises. Could eyes really be like that?

She opened her mouth to comment on them when their coffee arrived. The man released her hands, and the soothing blanket she had felt comforting her vanished. The world readjusted itself like a self-focusing camera. Staring at her hands, Sarah was dimly aware of the man pushing the little tray of sweetener toward her. Another glance up at him and she was able to breathe normally again.

"Thank you." Once the words were out of her mouth, they sounded inane. Too ridiculously simple to adequately express how she felt. How grateful she was. How so damn thankful she was.

"I'm glad I was able to help."

"Who—" She bit her lip and lowered her eyes. Seeing the cup of coffee in front of her, she hastily creamed and sugared it to cover her sudden embarrassment. This man had seen her almost naked. It was all coming back to her now, 520

including the terror. The cup shook when she lifted it to her mouth. The coffee scalded the tip of her tongue, but it didn't matter. What mattered was the fact that the rape had not happened. She was well and whole, thanks to this man, this

... stranger. "Who are you?" Sarah asked him abruptly, lifting her eyes back into the turquoise whirlpools of his.

"I'm sorry. We haven't been properly introduced. My name is Simolif Morr. People call me 'Simon.'"

The name, spoken in his dream-dark accent, fit him as perfectly as his short-sleeved polo shirt and jeans. Sarah took another sip of coffee to moisten her parched throat. "I'm Sarah Drumman. People around here call me 'Professor.'"

Simon chuckled. The sound of it echoed in her blood, and she felt a flush rise all the way up into the roots of her hair.

Damn it, how was he able to affect her like that when they'd only just met?

"It's nice to know you're not one of those flirty secretaries." He took a sip of his drink.

Now the heat in her face intensified. "Oh. Them. I'm sorry.

They just think they're having a little harmless fun." Well, hell. Why was she defending the members of the Hunk Herd?

He nodded; the diner's ceiling lights glinted off of his golden hair with fiery sparks. "I can imagine what they're saying behind that glass wall. All in fun, of course."

The slightly sarcastic remark irritated her. "You postured for them on purpose!" By the grin lifting those perfect lips, she knew she had just stumbled upon his little secret. "Simon Morr! You insidious jerk!" she accused him, but not without returning the smile.

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"Not any more of a jerk than those women who like to bare themselves in public for my benefit. Do they really think I'm the only guy who catches a glimpse?"

"You know how good looking you are, and you flaunt it in front of them!" Sarah stared at him wide-eyed. She didn't know whether to congratulate him for turning the tables on a dozen unsuspecting man-hungry females or be appalled by his temerity.

Another thought flashed through her mind, thanks to the stimulating effects of the coffee. "Do those other men, the ones you work with, do they put you up to it? Showing yourself off, I mean, just so they can reap your benefits, too?"

Simon smiled, but this time she could tell she had discovered a truth he wasn't proud to admit. "Guess it's time for me to say 'I'm sorry.' They assured me it's all done in

'harmless fun.'"

"Just how far do you take this 'harmless fun,' Mr. Morr?"

She wasn't angry anymore. Or even perturbed. But she was definitely curious.

She saw his golden eyebrows lower in puzzlement. "What do you mean, how far?"

"How many women have you managed to seduce after you've pranced around? Do you limit yourself to one per construction site? Or has it become some sort of contest to see how many notches you can put on your belt?"

Strangely, the man honestly appeared confused by her questions. "If you're asking me if I've sought out sexual conquests every time I go out on a job, the answer is no. A 522

flat no. But I will admit that I haven't stopped looking for the one woman I can spend the rest of my life with, if that means anything to you."

The pain in his voice shocked her with its sincerity. Sarah quickly realized this man knew how fantastic he looked, but he wasn't using it as a tool when playing the field. If he was playing the field. His last remark had a funny ring in it, as though he wasn't so much on a hunt to find Mrs. Right as he was on a mission. Or a quest. Seeking something he didn't believe existed but was determined to spend his life searching for, no matter what it cost, no matter what the consequences.

"I'm sorry," she began, when he waved her off.

"Don't be. I realize the men here often have little regard for the sanctity of a true union. And while I don't like your insinuations, I understand why you think that way."

...the men here ... Of course. She took another sip before continuing. "Where are you from?"

His sigh was definitely a homesick one. "A tiny country on the other side of the world. It's been taken over. So few of us managed to escape." She watched him play with the empty sugar packet. His fingers were long, his hands large and strong looking. The nails, she noticed, were clean and filed.

Construction workers normally didn't have clean, blunt nails.

Maybe it's because he's a foreigner, she mused.

"So few? Like your family?"

He slowly shook his head as he finished his drink and lowered his empty mug. "They were killed. But my brother and I managed to make it over here. And a very close friend we've sort of adopted as our sister."

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"Older brother? Younger?"

"Younger. His name's Jebaral. Jeb. Our sister is Tiron. She sometimes goes by Roni."

"Where do they live? Are they here in Templeton?"

"Jeb and his wife live in Tumbril Harbor. Do you know where that is?"

"Sort of. I've heard of it, but I've never been there. It's near Flatlock National Park, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Roni and her husband moved there last spring from Crescent City. Thom is with the sheriff's department. Roni works for the park service."

"What does Jeb—Jebaral? What does he do?"

"He works at the mill there. Hannah is a waitress." He glanced over her shoulder at the people leaving the diner. His gaze was unfocused, and Sarah could see a wistfulness come over him, like a form of jealousy that wasn't vindictive or angry. Or maybe it was wishful thinking. As if they had found the kind of true happiness he had mentioned earlier, or a peacefulness that continued to elude him.

"What of the others you mentioned? Are they in Tumbril Harbor, too?"

His eyes focused back on her. "They're spread out." He made a motion toward her cup with his head. "Want some more?"

She was surprised to see her mug was also empty. "Sure."

Simon waved for a waitress, who came to refill their mugs and also inform them that the diner would be closing in twenty minutes. At the remark, Sarah glanced at her 524

wristwatch in shock. It was getting close to ten. When had she left her office? Around eight?

"Are you sure you're okay?" Simon asked, leaning over the table as he lowered his voice.

It was beginning to come back to her. Biting her lower lip, she nodded. "Are you going to take me to the police station to report it when we leave here?"

Simon stirred his coffee. "Do you want to report it?"

Want to? "Don't we have to? What if he tries to do ... it ...

again ... to another woman? What if he's already done it in the past?"

He spoke cautiously, choosing his words carefully. "Sarah, I promise that man will not be able to hurt another woman for a long, long time. I give you my word. But whether you want me to take you to the police station to report it is entirely up to you."

"How can you be so sure he won't try something like that again?"

This time he flashed her that arrogant, self-assured smile.

"Because I broke his legs."

The memory of an inhuman roar, and the sense of her attacker almost being lifted away from her, drifted forward from the corner of her mind where she had hidden it. He had saved her twice now—first from the would-be rapist, and now her he was saving her sanity. It was all becoming so clear.

Simon had brought her here where she could ground herself in reality within these familiar surroundings.

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"I still need to report it." She toyed with her spoon before looking back at him. "I won't mention you being there. Would that be all right?"

He seemed to visibly relax at the compromise. Nodding, he said, "Yeah. You're right. In case he's attacked other women, they'll need to check his DNA. Tell them he's over by the planetarium's sign. He's going to need an ambulance to carry him to a hospital. Come on." He got to his feet, tossing a large bill on the table. "Want me to take you home before you report it? Or would you rather go back to the campus and call from there?"

"It would be smarter if I went back to the campus." More aware of herself now, Sarah realized the extent of her injuries and just how roughly she'd been treated. Her shoulders and neck twinged in pain. There would be bruises on her wrists, not to mention her upper thighs and legs. Her clothes were probably ruined.

Simon took her elbow and escorted her back outside. This time Sarah couldn't help but notice that he wasn't as tall as she'd originally thought. In fact he was barely two or three inches taller than her five-foot six-inch frame. But he was perfectly proportioned, with wide shoulders and slim hips, not to mention that air of confidence he wore that attracted women to him like flies to sugar.

Once he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, Sarah ventured to ask, "What were you doing wandering about campus after dark? I thought construction shut down after five."

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"It does. But I love the layout of the college. All those big trees just off the grand mall and the quad, and the walkabout. I often run in the evenings. That or take long walks."

"You walked over to the campus? Where do you live, then?"

He chuckled in that dreamy way she knew she could quickly become addicted to. "I live in an apartment over on Tranquility. I ride my bike over to the college and park it there when I want to walk the campus."

"Bike? Like a motorcycle?"

"It's not a fancy one. A black Harley."

Conversation faded as they neared the university. In the narrow confines of her little sedan, Sarah could smell a faint odor coming from him, one she hadn't caught until now. It was a light scent, not heavy like the kind of colognes men were known to favor.

In fact it was almost smelled like ... mint. No ...

peppermint. But not sweet.

Shaking her head slightly, she breathed in deeply, slowly.

Yeah. Definitely minty, but not the kind that reminded her of breath mints or toothpaste. Close, but still somehow ...

different. It made her feel ... clean.

Simon slowed the car as they neared the faculty parking lot. Once he parked and turned off the ignition, he handed her the keys. She reached out to take them, and their fingers brushed. Instantly his fingers caught her hand, trapping it in his.

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That cold sense of trepidation that had been crawling under her skin as they neared the spot where the attack had occurred was suddenly overwhelmed with a calm warmth. It was a blanket of protectiveness, covering her from head to toe.

Unable to stop herself, she leaned over the console, seeking whatever comfort he could give her. Iron-strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his firm, fragrant chest. Sarah let the tears come, let the anguish and emotional hurt sob out of her until there was nothing left inside.

Simon held her with a tenderness that surprised her. Or maybe it didn't surprise her. He didn't murmur little words to soothe her. Instead he stroked her hair and back as she clutched his shirt with both fists and gave in to the delayed stress and fear.

He stayed with her until she made the 9-1-1 call to report the incident. But before he left her, he promised to contact her tomorrow to see how she was doing. And then he disappeared into the darkness.

Sarah had no doubt he would make good his promise.

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"I sensed you were going to call, little brother."

Simon laughed into his cell phone. "Watch who you're calling little, little brother," he retorted with a smile.

He had taken his bike up Ridge Road, which stretched up the hillside behind the university, and parked it at one of the overlooks. From this vantage point he could see when the ambulance and police cars arrived. He watched two officers escort Sarah over to an EMS van, where a tech checked her out. Not long into their interrogation, another officer came running over. He led them back where the attacker still lay comatose near the planetarium sign, where Simon had left him.

"What happened?" Jeb asked in a low voice.

"A man tried to attack her tonight. He tried to rape her, but I got to him first."

"Is she all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, physically she's fine. It messed with her head, though."

"What about the man?"

Simon made a face, even though he knew his brother wouldn't be able to see it. "He won't be harming any more women for a very long time. I broke both his thigh bones."

There was a rustling sound in the background. Jeb murmured tenderly to his wife. After he and Hannah had bought the property and built their home next to the Beering 529

Game Preserve, which abutted the Flatlock National Forest, they had found that getting cell phones to keep in contact with each other was a much better solution than their old method of trying to schedule a time and place to talk via pay phones.

"And you are certain she is the one?" Jeb asked.

"Yes. Now I know. You were right. It's like our father said.

I knew the day I walked onto that construction site that she was nearby. Of course, it took me a few days to figure out who she was. Now it's like..." He couldn't find the words to adequately express how he was feeling, although he knew he really didn't have to. Not to Jeb, anyway.

"You've touched her?"

"Yes. It's there. It's all there. She's my blood mate, Jeb.

I've found my blood mate." He couldn't suppress the joy rising inside him, knowing he had finally been blessed.

Jeb chuckled at hearing his brother's happiness. "I remember it wasn't too long ago when I was in your pants, Simon."

"Shoes," a sleepy voice interrupted, more amused than annoyed. "You were in his shoes, t'kor. Not his pants."

Simon laughed softly, along with his brother. Six years on this planet wasn't enough time to get all the colloquialisms down. "All I am sure of is that my search is over. I have found her. Now I have to tread very carefully until she is ready to accept the true me."

He watched as, below the ridge, the attacker was hoisted onto a stretcher and slid into a waiting van. Sarah was led over to make a positive identification. Simon didn't know all 530

the steps involved in reporting this kind of crime, but he was proud of the way she was holding up.

"What does she smell like, Simolif?"

That was what had led him to her in the end. That faint, almost elusive scent he had detected the moment he'd gotten downwind from her. "Like rain. Fresh, drenching rain. Clean.

Pure. Life-giving. There was a hint of lemonade, too." A little frown was etched between his brows. "I thought you said Hannah smelled like lemonade. Can both our women smell the same?"

"I thought her scent was lemonade until I took her. No.

Lemonade is caring. The stronger the scent, the more they are coming to care about the one they're growing to love.

Tiron says Thom has that lemonade scent as well. I later discovered that Hannah smells like jasmine. It's a very airy, very delicate scent."

"Same here." Simon paused to watch the proceedings below, prompting Jeb to ask him what was going on. "They're leaving. An officer is helping Sarah into her car. He found the knife the man tried to use on her. He's carrying it in a plastic bag." In spite of the darkness and poor visibility, Simon's enhanced alien eyesight missed nothing. "Have you run tonight?"

"I was about to leave when I sensed your need, so I waited. What about you?"

Simon nodded into the phone, even though he knew it couldn't be seen. It was a habit they had yet to break themselves of. "A short one. I had a feeling she would be 531

staying late at the college, so I went over there to wait for her. It's a good thing I did."

"You sensed the need to protect her, Simon. That's another positive sign she is meant for you. So now that you've met her and touched her, what do you plan to do next?"

"I'm not sure. Would I need to take her on a date?"

"T'korra, Simon is unsure what to do next, now that he's found his blood mate. What rituals would he need to follow?"

Simon heard Jeb ask his wife.

"Rituals?"

Simon smiled. From the sound of Hannah's voice, it was evident now that she wasn't as sleepy as she was exhausted.

Obviously Jeb was late in taking his usual night run because they had been engaged in other pleasant activities.

"Does he take her on a date? What can he do now to get to know her further?"

The question was asked with the hope of solving a mystery, since neither of them had approached their mates in quite that manner. Especially Jeb.

Flexing his muscles, Simon knew it wouldn't be long before he was forced to shed this outer skin and free his true self.

Soon he would have to bathe his Ruinos body beneath the cool glare of the waning moon. The temptation was growing.

"Uh ... dinner and a movie is usually the norm," Hannah said. "Here. Let me have the phone. Simon?" She breathed heavily into the receiver. "This woman, you're certain she's your life mate?"

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"I have no doubts. I can already sense her from a distance."

"Oh, that's wonderful! I'm so happy for you! We're still talking about the one at the college, right? Sarah?"

"Drumman. Professor Drumman. She works in the field of astronomy."

"That's an interesting coincidence, wouldn't you say?"

Hannah laughed gently. "Okay, so you've met her and talked with her, right?"

"Right."

"Did you go anywhere?"

"We had coffee at a diner. That was all." He was reluctant to mention the attack, but Jeb would let his wife in on that piece of news later.

"Okay. Coffee. That's a good start. Did you make any mention you wanted to meet with her again?"

"I told her I would contact her tomorrow," he admitted. "I really didn't want to leave her at all."

"Good! That's good. Just follow through. That would be an excellent time to ask her out on a real date. Like dinner and a movie. Always a good combination."

"What if she doesn't want to do either?"

"Then let her decide. But whatever you do, Simon, take it one step at a time. Think of her as being wary, like a timid animal. My guess is she's like Thom and me. She's never had an orgasm before, which means she's either gone through some bad relationships in the past, or she's never had a man.

She could be a virgin, Simon."

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He nodded. Making love to the woman would be their ultimate test by fire. It was an occasion he was both fearful of and at the same time anticipating.

"Oh, and whatever you decide, give her a flower first."

"A flower?"

"It's part of the dating ritual. Women love fresh flowers, like roses. Anything bright and colorful. A simple flower, handed to her at the start of the date. Trust me. She'll melt."

The phone was handed back to Jeb, who was ready to end the conversation. "I need to go. So do you. Call me after your date. Tell us how it went."

"I will," Simon promised. "F'lis comorrn, Jebaral."

"F'lis comorrn, Simolif."

Closing his phone, Simon shoved it back into his pants pocket. The police and ambulance were gone. The place was empty and quiet once more.

Starting his motorcycle, he went down Ridge Road and turned at the intersection leading back into town. He cruised just below the speed limit, taking his time to give Sarah the chance to get home and settle in.

The police had followed her back to her apartment to make sure she got there safely. He could see the silver sedan parked in its stall behind the tall iron gates that separated the complex from the outside world. He looked up at the thin ledge standing eighteen feet above him. The distance was negligible. He could scale the wall in two seconds flat if he needed to. But tonight there was no need. No urgency, although he could sense Sarah trying to find some inner peace so she could rest.

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There was a fluttering in his chest. The tickling sensation surprised him, then sent him sliding inexorably toward a darker and deeper passion. Sarah was thinking of him. He knew it as surely as if she had said his name aloud. Perhaps she had. She had no idea that once he touched her, flesh to flesh, he had sealed her permanently to him. In that brief instant, while she sat dazed and half-aware of him, he had removed his outer skin along his fingertips, so that his true self could caress her. And claim her.

But Hannah was right. He had to make sure he made no sudden moves to frighten her. He had come this far. Patience was imperative. There remained just a little more time before she would turn to him without question, without fear, and allow him to take her sexually. And then they would know the truth. But Simon already knew what the outcome would be.

He already knew the first morning after making love with her that he and Jeb would find a third blood line racing in their arms. Sarah's blood line. The ultimate, inarguable proof that Sarah and Simon were true blood mates.

Already his lust was pounding like a thick-flowing river through his body. His pants had grown excruciatingly tight as his manpipe tried to find surcease. She was calling to him.

Her body was aware of him being near, and in its own way it was reaching for him.

"Soon, t'korra," he called out into the night. "Soon. I promise."

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