True Believers (9 page)

Rachel scraped the handcuffs along the pipe, scratching away bits of paint but little else. She wiggled her thumb and imagined the bones dissolving. It wouldn't take much to slip her hand out, not if she could lose the thumb for a few minutes.

She had nearly pulled it free when the door lock clicked open. The doorknob twisted from left to right, and all thoughts of shape-shifting fled her.

A tall gray-haired man entered the room, his gaze panning from wall to wall before settling on her. She recognized this one. He had been in the cave with Jessit and his men, subtly guiding his guests away from her team.

Like ice,
she thought as she assessed him. Cold and soulless. Such men were dangerous. And she was in a poor position to protect herself.

The soldier accompanying him marched over to her, a slim key in one hand. He took off her cuffs and tucked them into a pocket. Without so much as a breath he positioned himself by the door, awaiting his next orders. Rachel jerked to her feet and massaged her sore wrist. Only two of them, and the old man wasn't armed. Her odds were improving.

The stranger had a smooth, angular face topped with a half crown of thinning hair and the most remarkable clear gray eyes she had ever seen. They looked like ice chips. It chilled her to find them studying her with such focus.

“Good morning, Dr. Cruz. I am Jacob Denman.” His voice was crisp and deep as an oboe, and when he smiled with that thin seam of a mouth, it looked like a twig pasted to his face.

She stuttered a response, ashamed that she let a mortal shake her so. “I remember you from the cave. One of my people died because you forced us out.”

He maintained his twig-smile and carried on as if they were discussing the weather. “It was a most unfortunate incident. But there was no way to foresee a flash flood. We are grateful you survived, thanks in large part to Commander Jessit.”

She had laced her fingers and now felt she couldn't pry them apart. “Is Taelen all right? He was badly hurt.”

His expression remained noncommittal. “Yes, about Commander Jessit. He is a special guest of our government. He must be treated with the utmost respect. You understand this, yes?”

She nodded. What was he getting at?

“And you understand, we as a host nation must be sensitive to our foreign guests and their needs, even if we don't understand them.”

“I know he's an alien. I haven't started any intergalactic incidents if that's what you're worried about.”

“Of course.” His twig mouth bent upwards at one corner, but it dropped when he looked at his watch. “We will continue this conversation a little later. You have a visitor.”

Denman nodded to the guard, who came back to life in that instant. He opened the door then stood to one side, snapping to attention.

The old man smiled broadly. His hand was already extended when Jessit entered the room. “So good to see you again, Commander.”

Jessit was clean, groomed and dressed in a fresh uniform. There were still some obvious scars on his face and hands, but he seemed remarkably healed. Rachel held in her breath, anxious to touch him again.

“Mr. Denman.” Jessit proffered Denman a courteous smile. “Thank you for your indulgence.”

“Not at all.” He looked back at Rachel, the earlier tension forgotten. “I understand you wanted to call on this lady before meeting with General Sorinsen. As you can see she has recovered nicely.”

“My thanks, sir. I should have known I need not have worried for her safety while in your care.” He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, glancing at Rachel and then Denman.

Denman got the message and extricated himself with the same subtlety as when he entered. “This lieutenant will escort you to General Sorinsen in time for your meeting.” He bowed his head respectfully. “Until we speak again, sir.”

Rachel rushed toward Jessit, but he held out a hand and stopped her midstride. The door closed behind Denman, and Jessit pulled out a small device and pressed a button.

“It is safe now.”

“Safe?”

He showed her the tiny instrument. “This blankets any listening devices. Your people are anxious to follow my every move. For the most part, I do not mind, but I will not entertain them while I am with a woman.”

Rachel folded her arms at her chest. “So this is a conjugal visit.”

He looked puzzled. “Conju…I am unfamiliar with that word.”

“Did you come here to have sex?”

He smiled at her. “Perhaps later.” He opened his arms to her. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Her hands touched him gently. “Are you all right? Did they patch you up?”

Jessit thumped his chest where the worst gash had been. “Much better.”

“I'm so glad.” She punched him on the arm lightly. “But don't get so full of yourself. Just because we spent a couple of nights out in the wilderness doesn’t mean you have any privilege with me.”

“Is that so?” Jessit tugged her into his arms. “Then I am not welcomed here. Is that it?”

“I didn't say that.” She turned her head in a sulk and pouted with frustration.

He shrugged. “Apparently we have a language barrier. Fortunately, I know other ways to communicate.” He nuzzled her nose, pressing his lips to hers. The warm tickle of his skin ignited her.

Damn the man. He was speaking her language.

She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and for one short instant letting herself go. Her
na'hala
jerked awake and urged her to join with him.
Union,
it told her. But she denied it and herself. She couldn't afford to take this any further than the gentle petting he offered.

His mouth kissed the nape of her neck. When he breathed deep she felt the vibration of a soft groan against her shoulder. She surrendered a sigh in response.
Too much stimulation.
It had to stop before he went too far.

She reluctantly pulled away.

Jessit wasn't giving up so easily. He rubbed his nose against her cheek. “Is something wrong?”

Rachel licked her lips.
Wrong?
No, not if he was okay with being ravaged by a woman on fire. He smelled of sex and need. And he was gentle. She wasn't expecting that.

“You promised to get me out of here.”

“I will.”

“Can't you do it now? I thought that's why you came.”

He hung his head and weighed his words before speaking. “I must meet with General Sorinsen, the leader of this facility. There are many issues at stake. I will send for you as soon as I can.”

“I don't like it here.” Her hands pleaded with him, kneading the fabric of his sleeve. “Take me away. Please?”

“It is not that simple, Rachel. There are negotiations involved.”

“Negotiations? I don't understand.”

A knock on the door kept him from saying any more. On the other side was his escort.

“Sir. Your appointment is at hand.”

Jessit nodded in acknowledgement. “In a moment, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.” He saluted then stood at attention, blocking the open doorway.

Jessit turned back to Rachel. “I must go, but I will send for you. Soon.”

Rachel held on to his hand. It was warm and wide and full of promise. “One of my friends is here and—”

“With all due respect, sir,” the lieutenant interrupted. “You will be late for your meeting.”

“Of course,” Jessit replied without looking at him. His fingers grazed her cheek. “I will make the appropriate arrangements.”

He didn't kiss her, not in front of this stranger, but he squeezed her hand and that gave her hope. “Leave it to me.”

The door had no sooner shut when it opened again, and this time it was that iceberg, Denman. He slammed the door behind him and pointed to her bed. “Please sit, Doctor. It's time we finished our little chat.”

He glided toward her like a panther hunting prey. With lightning reflexes he took her by the hand and forced her to sit with him on the edge of the bed.

Rachel stiffened. She didn't like him. There was a taint on him, something vile she couldn't place.

“I trust you had a pleasant visit with Commander Jessit.”

“What's that to you?”

His twig-smile lifted upward. “It's important to Command that Jessit be happy. We go through a great deal of effort to make his every wish a reality. As you can imagine, an alien nation as our guest here is a great privilege and advantage. Trade negotiations alone will make this country rich beyond its dreams.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Everything, my dear. I told you, we want him to be happy. And he's asked for you.”

“He promised to take me with him.”

“Indeed, and you will be going with him. That's one of the things we need to discuss. You see, he's asked that we give you to him. As a gift.”

Rachel jerked her hand out of his grasp and scrambled off the bed. “If this is some kind of joke—”

“I never joke.” He got up and took her hand again. “Never.”

“He said no such thing when he was here. You're lying.” She was breathing through her nose, heat rising to her face. He was bluffing. She hoped.

Denman's expression remained bland but his grip became tighter, pinching her fingers together. He was disappointed with her answer. “You already know he's not human, so you must realize he has far different expectations than we do. Gifts of the flesh are anticipated and appreciated.”

She shook her head in disbelief. Denman was bluffing. The government didn't go around giving people away.
Did it?
“Taelen wouldn't do this to me.”

He laughed. “You are naïve, Doctor. Didn't he tell you he would arrange for you to be with him?”

“Of course he did, but he didn't mean—”

She stared at him. “He couldn't have meant
that.”

“Oh, but he did. We're giving you to him as a concubine. A gift from the U.S. government to his Excellency, the Ambassador from Alturis.”

“I'm an American citizen. I have rights.”

“You have nothing!” He shoved her against the wall. “You're a trespasser and a security risk we can ill afford. But you have captured the interest of a potential ally and friend of this country, and we will gladly give you to his Excellency if it pleases him.”

His ferocity stunned her. Gone was the calm and disinterested voice, replaced by the C.I.A.'s version of Mr. Hyde.

“Your choice, Doctor.” He picked up a loose curl of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “How badly do you want to live?”

Rachel shrank back. His touch felt vulgar and monstrous. Every cell in her body cried a warning.
Run!

How could Jessit do such a thing? He had protected her. He had risked his life to save hers. Was it all part of an ulterior motive? She was too shocked even to get angry. He had betrayed her after all. “I need time to think.”

“Time is a luxury neither of us has, my dear, and I have many other questions.”

She stared up at him. “What sort of questions?”

“Tell me about the petroglyph.”

“What?”
Why were the cave drawings important?

“The petroglyph. What makes it so special?”

She found herself answering without thinking, stunned by Denman's resolve and Jessit's request. “It's sandstone. Carved with obsidian tools. The glyphs are archaic Sumerian.”

“What does it say?”

“I'm not a Sumerian linguist.”

“What does it say?” He lunged at her like a spitting cobra. “What does it say?”

Rachel shook her head, trying to fend off involuntary tears. “The text is religious. It praises ancient gods. I don't know any more!”

“What gods? Does it specify? Are there names on that rock?” He grabbed her by both shoulders and shook her hard. “Names, Dr. Cruz!”

She was a rag doll in the hands of a bully. Instinct told her to fight back, but she couldn't. Not yet. Not until she knew those she loved were safe.

She stiffened in his grasp. “It has only one proper name etched into the stone. It says ‘Anu’. It praises the sons of Anu.”

His fingers dug themselves into her flesh. When he released her she still felt his grip. She had said too much.

“What is a Sumerian rock drawing doing in Texas?”

“I don't know,” she said, massaging her left shoulder. Why was it important? Her mind raced for answers. It was the find of a lifetime, but it had nothing to do with the Alturians. Did it?

“Then give me your educated guess.”

Rachel collected her wits. She had to stay in control. “This is the second one we've found in Texas. There's an old theory that the Egyptians once traveled to the North American continent. Perhaps the Sumerians did too. I don't know. And if you don't believe me you can kidnap some other scientists and ask them!”

Denman stood up, looking dissatisfied. He didn't believe her. She was sure of it. “Why was Paul Domino on your expedition? He's no archeologist.”

Rachel shrugged. “I don't see how that's important.”

He tapped his foot, waiting for an answer to his question.

She huffed at him. “It was a hobby for Paul. He paid to come along.”

“Expensive hobby.”

“Amateur archeologists do this all the time. Hiring laypeople to do the grunt work keeps our expenses low.”

“And how long has he been with you?” Denman's eyes narrowed into black bottomless slits.

“This was his first trip with me. We've been hiking the canyon rifts for two months now.” She folded her arms across her chest. “All this is on record with the park service. You can check with them if you don't believe me.”

“Oh, I have. You see, he’s placed you in a rather precarious situation. He escaped this compound but not before toying with our computer system. I can assure you he won’t get far. We do not tolerate terrorists.”

“Paul's not a terrorist!”

“He'd be hard-pressed to argue that point after accessing military records and sabotaging our computer system. We execute terrorists in this country, Dr. Cruz. I can assure you, we will execute him.”

Rachel could kill this man where he stood, yet he frightened her like no other. Her
na'hala
bristled inside her.
Kill him,
it said.
Kill the human.
Nothing would give her more pleasure, but she had to bide her time. She had to find Paul. “Mr. Denman, this is a misunderstanding. We were doing our jobs.”