sedona files 06 - enemy mine Page 14

  He didn’t smile. “That depends on whether you would find those attentions appealing.”

  “God, no,” slipped from my lips before I could stop myself. A flash of disappointment came and went in Gideon’s eyes, and I immediately reached out and put a hand on his knee, saying, “But I definitely don’t think of you as one of them.”

  “But I am.”

  “Half,” I said firmly. “The other half is just as human as I am.”

  No response. He watched me for a moment, and then his gaze flicked down to where my hand was resting on his knee.

  Maybe I should have pulled it back. After all, we were sitting very close. But I realized then that I didn’t want to. I wanted —

  I wanted what I knew he was going to do then.

  He leaned forward, his face scant inches from mine. Finally, there was a pulse from him— of need, of worry…of self-loathing. Everything in him wanted this, but he thought he wasn’t worthy.

  Well, I’d have to correct that notion right away. I lifted my hand from his knee so I could cup his face in my fingers. I brought him close, and in the next instant, our lips touched.

  Heat moving all through me, raging down into the pit of my stomach and out along every limb. The world shimmered around me. A kiss wasn’t supposed to do that to you, was it?

  In this case, it did.

  Our mouths opened, and I tasted him, clean and light, like the mineral-laden water we’d drunk on board his father’s ship. His arms were around me, and then he was pushing me down against the sofa cushions, his weight on top of me, his hands tangling in my hair.

  I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him close, even though I knew that was crazy, that I shouldn’t be pushing things along so fast. But, oh, God, feeling his body pressed against mine was divine, and I never wanted it to end, wanted the whole world to be the two of us together like this, everything else forgotten.

  But it couldn’t be forgotten. I needed to take some control of myself, because dimly past the heat and the blood that seemed to pulse in every square inch of my body, I realized Gideon was in possession of information that needed to be shared with everyone in the group.

  So I broke the kiss, but gently, pulling my mouth from his as I reached up to run a hand through his heavy, wavy hair. “Gideon — ”

  At once he looked stricken, and raised himself from me as he practically propelled himself from the couch. “I should not have done that.”

  “Why?” I asked candidly as I sat up and got everything more or less back in place. “I wanted you to. In fact, I started it.”

  He stopped where he was and stared down at me. “You wanted that?”

  “Of course I did,” I replied, then got up from the sofa so I could go over and take his hand in mine. “I realized I needed to stop fighting it. Unless — ” I paused then, not wanting to say the words but knowing I must. “Unless this was all a trick, and you’re still planning to take me back to your father.”

  “No!” The word burst from him with such force that I knew he could only be telling the truth. “I would never do that. I — I don’t know for sure what to do next, but I would never betray you to him.”

  His words rang with truth. I could feel it radiating from every syllable. Relieved, I tightened my fingers on his. “So…does that mean you’re throwing your lot in with us humans?”

  “I — ” He stopped there, clearly warring within himself. “I suppose I must. I can’t support what he’s doing. Not any longer. Besides….” His mouth twisted, and he stopped there, eyes dark with memory.

  “Besides what?”

  “I can’t forget what my mother told me as she was dying. ‘Always remember,’ she said.”

  “Remember what?”

  He gave me a sad smile. “‘Remember that you’re half human, too.’ I can’t make a decision without betraying some part of my heritage, and yet I know what Lir Shalan is doing is wrong.”

  The very fact that he’d used the alien leader’s full name rather than saying “my father” told me a great deal. I waited in silence, since I worried that interrupting him would only serve to shake his resolve.

  Then Gideon lifted first one of my hands, and then the other, laying a gentle kiss on each one.

  “Tell me what I should do next.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I texted my parents and said that I had something important I needed to discuss with them, and would it be okay if I came over?

  My mother replied almost immediately. What’s the matter? Aren’t you at work?

  I left early, I texted back. Are you busy?

  No. I had a client earlier, but he’s gone back to his hotel. And your father is working on his book, but he can take a break.

  I’ll be over in fifteen, I typed, then closed the messenger window.

  My father was always working on a book. I honestly didn’t know how much those books actually earned him, since I’d always had the impression that a large chunk of the family’s income came from residuals from his television show Paranormality, even though it had been canceled years earlier, as well as the speaking engagements where he made appearances at UFO conventions around the country. Well, that, and from my mother’s private clients, many of whom flew out from L.A. to see her, since the majority of them were entertainment types. Apparently word had gotten out about her abilities, and she had a steady stream of people coming to Sedona to have her do readings for them.

  Anyway, I’d long since stopped worrying about whether I was interrupting my father while he was writing, because otherwise I would never have gotten to talk to him. I also had a feeling he wouldn’t mind this particular interruption.

  “We can go right over,” I told Gideon, who’d been hovering nearby while I conducted my text exchange with my mother.

  He didn’t look exactly overcome with excitement at the prospect of going to my parents’ house. “Are you sure this is necessary?”

  “They need to hear it from you, Gideon.” I could have been impatient with his reluctance, but I thought I knew where it was coming from. Meeting someone’s parents for the first time was hard enough without also being the son of an alien enemy leader.

  “I know. And it needs to be stopped, but….” He paused then, searching my face. “You understand what we’re facing here, don’t you? The people who entered into these agreements with Lir Shalan are very powerful. They think the lives of a few women are a small price to pay when compared with the technology we can give them. They will not be happy that someone is trying to stop them.”

  “True,” I said, trying to sound unconcerned, even though a shiver of anxiety went through me at the thought of having to somehow take on a global conspiracy. “Then again, they’ve never gone up against the Sedona UFO hunters.”

  Gideon activated his disguise again, just because we had to drive through a good chunk of town to get to my parents’ house. The windows of my car were tinted, but not so much that they could hide the unusual hue of his skin. Anyway, we’d also have to park in the driveway and walk in through the front door, which meant any neighbors out walking their dogs or watering the potted plants on their porches would be able to get a look at him before we went inside. Better safe than sorry.

  Besides, I thought it might be a good idea to ease my parents into this. Seeing a green-skinned man on their front doorstep might give even them pause.

  Traffic was heavier than usual because of all the spring-breakers. I tried not to curse as we missed yet another light. Gideon looked over at me and said, “This is a highly inefficient form of travel.”

  “No kidding,” I replied. “But we still don’t have our flying cars, so we have to put up with traffic.”

  “You don’t have your flying cars…yet,” he said, rather cryptically.

  Or maybe his comment wasn’t so cryptic. I could see why some politicians in Washington and elsewhere might think it was a fair trade to hand off a few women in exchange for flying cars and non-polluting renewable energy and….


  My fingers tightened on the steering wheel, even though the car was in self-driving mode and I didn’t need to be involved at all. Somehow I doubted the Reptilians would be quite that altruistic with their “gifts.” More like they’d be all too happy to give us a bunch of new and improved weapons, and they could swoop in and steal away even more unwilling breeding stock while we were busy picking up the pieces. Nothing powerful enough to make us a threat to the aliens, but bad enough that there might not be a lot of civilization left by the time they were done.

  No, it wouldn’t come to that. My mother had stopped the Reptilians on the first go-’round, and Kirsten had finished the job a few years later. True, she hadn’t completely finished it, but the aliens had left Sedona alone for the past twenty-five years.

  Problem was, when they’d returned, they’d returned with a vengeance. And they weren’t working in the shadows anymore, but were out in the world, pretending to be saviors when in fact they were the exact opposite.

  The car finally eased itself around the traffic circles near Tlaquepaque Village, and I let out a relieved breath. Just a little farther, and then I’d be off the highway and into the hilly neighborhood where I’d grown up.

  “You’re worried,” Gideon said.

  “Not exactly worried,” I replied. “Anxious, I guess. I was just thinking about what the Reptilians have been doing, and I’m getting myself all worked up. But I know we need to be calm and methodical about this.”

  “I’m glad that you’re getting worked up. It shows you care. I enjoy your passion.”

  I could think of something else I’d rather be passionate about. Just recalling the way Gideon had kissed me was enough to send that flooding warmth all through my body again. I’d have to push those feelings out of my mind for now, though. It was never a good idea to show up in front of your parents when you were all hot and bothered…especially when one of them happened to be a psychic.

  The car pulled into the driveway and shut itself off. We both got out, Gideon gazing around at his surroundings as he did so. I had to wonder what he thought of the neighborhood; it was a lot more upscale than the area where the cottage was located, with bigger lots, each property carefully situated to make maximum use of the spectacular red rock views all around.

  “This way,” I said, guiding him along the walkway that led into an enclosed entrance. It was cooler in there. A gardenia bloomed in a pot next to the front door, its fragrance seeming to fill the sheltered spot.

  I almost knocked, then realized that was foolish. This was my home; I still lived here, even though I’d already begun to feel detached, as if my future belonged somewhere else. And though it was broad daylight and technically we should have been safe, I realized it probably would have been safer for my parents to come to the cottage, rather than Gideon and me coming here.

  Well, there wasn’t anything I could do about it now. I dug in my purse for a key and let us into the foyer. As I shut the door behind us, I called out, “I’m here!”

  “In the kitchen,” my mother called back.

  That could be a good thing. There was something intrinsically relaxed about holding a conversation in a kitchen, rather than facing one another in the far more formal space of the living room.

  “This way,” I told Gideon.

  He followed me toward the back of the house where the kitchen was located. As we went, I could see him glancing around with a good deal of interest. The house was almost twice the size of the cottage, and more elegantly furnished. “Tuscan villa” was how my mother always described the decorating style, and I supposed that fit. There were a few Southwest pieces here and there, mainly Navajo pottery and the rug in the dining room, but she hadn’t gone full-bore with those kinds of accents the way Kara tended to. But maybe he wasn’t comparing the house to the cottage at all, but instead to his surroundings back on the Eclipse. Had he ever lived anywhere else, or was the Reptilian ship his only home?

  The kitchen at my parents’ house was large and had always felt friendly to me, with its warm maple cabinets and the big window in the breakfast nook, the one that gave an amazing view of Cathedral Rock. My mother stood in front of the refrigerator, the freezer compartment open in front of her as she stared into it. I recognized that pose all too well; it meant she had absolutely no idea what to make for dinner and was hoping inspiration would strike.

  Experience had taught me that at least two times out of three, we’d end up going out to eat or ordering in when she resorted to hoping for divine inspiration in her meal planning. At the sound of our footsteps, she shut the freezer door and turned toward us, surprise flaring in her eyes when she caught sight of Gideon.

  “Well, hello,” she said, as her gaze flicked toward me in question.

  “Sorry,” I told her. “I guess I should have told you I was bringing company. Mom, this is Gideon.” Her eyes widened as she recognized the name, and in the next second she frowned, as if attempting to reconcile the normal-looking young man in front of her with my stories about Lir Shalan’s half-human son. “Gideon, this is my mother, Persephone Oliver.”

  “Hello, Ms. Oliver,” Gideon said, and she waved a hand, although a frown still pulled at her arched brows.

  “Persephone is fine. It’s very nice to meet you, Gideon.” The glance she sent me next was clearly speculative, but she only said, “Let me go get Paul. I told him to come meet me in the kitchen, but it looks like he probably got sucked right back into that book he’s working on. Taryn, why don’t you see if Gideon would like some iced tea, or some water?”

  “Water,” he said immediately as she headed out to pry my father away from his computer. “Thank you.”

  I flashed a grin at him — obviously he wasn’t going to warm up to iced tea any time soon — and went to get the filter pitcher from the refrigerator, then filled a glass for both of us. “Ice?” I asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Would you like ice in it?”

  “Isn’t it already cold?”

  “Well, yes, but we add ice so our drinks don’t come up to room temperature too fast.”

  He frowned. “Why aren’t your drinking vessels made of materials that would prevent that from happening?”

  Good question. I supposed such things must exist, but most of us still just drank out of glass. “Tradition, I guess.”

  He shook his head. “Well, I think I will be all right without the ice.”

  With a smile, I brought his glass over to him. As he took it from me, his fingers touched mine for a second, just long enough to send that warm, shivery heat all through my body again.

  At that inopportune moment, my parents reappeared in the kitchen. I pulled my hand away from Gideon’s, hoping they hadn’t seen. Not that I was embarrassed by how I knew I felt for him, but because they were about to hear some very unsettling things, and discovering that the half-alien man and I shared some kind of connection probably wouldn’t make them jump for joy.

  “Paul, this is Gideon,” my mother said, and my father reached out to shake his hand. Obviously, he hadn’t made the connection yet, was still lost in his own thoughts the way he usually was when interrupted during a writing session.

  Gideon extended his hand as well. “It is very good to meet you, Mr. Oliver.”

  “Paul,” my father corrected automatically, his tone somewhat vague. It always did take him a little while to reconnect with reality.

  I had a feeling he was about to reconnect with reality in a very big way in about a minute.

  “So what’s this about?” my mother asked then, glancing from Gideon to me. The frown had returned, but it was clear enough that she wanted me to explain things in my own time.

  “It’s — ” I paused then. What was the best way to broach the subject? I looked over at Gideon, who wore a look of resignation. He seemed to have already guessed what I wanted him to do. But, as they said, a picture was worth a thousand words.

  “It’s because I possess information you will probably want to hear,” h
e said. His fingers moved to the band of leather he wore in his wrist and pressed down on the metal disk in the center.

  My parents had both seen and experienced enough crazy things in their lives that they didn’t jump, or gasp. Eyes widened, yes, and my mother pressed her lips together, as if she was trying to hold in an exclamation.

  “So you’re the one who took our daughter,” my father said then. All absentmindedness was gone, and the way his friendly hazel eyes narrowed seemed to indicate he was none too thrilled to have Gideon in his house, even if I’d brought him there.

  “I went of my own volition,” I protested. “And he brought me back, so can we just forget about that for now? We have more important things to talk about.”

  “More important things than kidnapping my daughter?” he asked. My mother laid a hand on his arm, as if to tell him to take it down a notch, but he ignored her, instead kept his gaze fixed on Gideon.

  “Perhaps. I wanted to tell you of the women who are being kidnapped.”

  Something in my father’s body language altered. It wasn’t exactly that the fight had gone out of him. Rather, it seemed that he had found something else to focus on.

  “What do you know about that?” My mother’s pretty features suddenly seemed quite grim.

  “A good deal, if not everything.” Gideon hesitated for a moment, then gave the slightest lift of his shoulders, as if he’d realized he couldn’t hold back what he needed to say. “You see, I was privy to most of Lir Shalan’s plans and designs, since I am his son.”

  Of course they both knew that already, even though Gideon didn’t realize I’d told them. He probably thought he was sharing a huge revelation. What he thought of their lack of reaction, I couldn’t tell, because his expression was still calm, almost bland.

  My father said, “That does explain a few things.”

  “Such as my appearance?”

  “Yes. We’d been wondering about that. Both Martin and Raphael swore that they’d never seen anyone who looked like you before.”