Alien Mine (The Pruxnae: Earthside #1)

Chapter Eleven

Fate and Dyuvad dropped Rachel and the girls off at Yasmin’s early the next morning. Dyuvad went so far as to take the spare key from Rachel and see them inside, like they weren’t perfectly capable of walking the distance between Fate’s truck and Yasmin’s front door on their own.

Rachel set her tote on Yasmin’s couch and penned an exasperated sigh in her mouth where it belonged. He meant well. Sure, he did. Hadn’t he told her right up front he’d see to their security, the way the men in his culture did? And hadn’t she agreed to that, if not implicitly, then by letting him stay and help her the way he had?

Didn’t he deserve a little leeway, seeing as how he was sleeping in her bed at night, even if they’d only had sex that one time? Mind-altering, body draining sex that had been so good, she’d wanted a repeat. Too bad Dyuvad hadn’t felt the same way or they would’ve had that repeat last night when they’d settled into bed together.

Nope. He’d wrapped himself around her, murmured a soft goodnight, and promptly fell asleep on her.

And that had played hell on her self-confidence, right up until she’d fallen asleep herself, and awakened bright and early with Dyuvad already up and at ‘em.

Again.

If he didn’t want to have sex with her, why in the world was he still sleeping with her? Was he really only in her bed to keep an eye on her and the girls? Did he regret that first time, the glorious moment of pleasure so intense, she still got goose bumps just thinking about it?

She settled Kelly and Tiny on the couch in front of Saturday morning cartoons, her thoughts torn between the place Dyuvad was making in her life and the troubles now upon her. Having a man occupy a space in her bed didn’t automatically give him rights over her and the girls. No, that was by her consent alone, and it came a little too naturally with Dyuvad. Maybe that was because he seemed so self-assured, like he could handle a small army if it was thrown at him, and maybe it was because there was something about him she couldn’t resist, something sensual and primal and male.

And maybe she gave in as easy as she did because her heart ached for companionship and love and all the things she’d never known with Juan, not really.

Was she finding those things with Dyuvad, a man she knew hardly anything about, or were her hormones just out of whack thanks to a long, lonely stint as a single mom?

So many questions and not an answer in sight.

Rachel blew out a breath, ruffling the loose strands of hair hanging around her face, and marched to the cabinet under Yasmin’s kitchen sink, across the room from where the girls quietly watched TV. Nothing was ever solved just by stewing on it, sure enough, and that had never been her method for working through problems anyway. She yanked out cleaning supplies and headed to the bathroom, determined to fix something while her mind sorted through the tangle emotion had made out of it.

A few hours later, after Rachel had scrubbed everything in the tiny cabin that hadn’t run from her, after a simple lunch had been made and eaten and the girls went down for a nap, the front door opened and Yasmin walked in, her skin ashen under her native tan.

Rachel set the dog-eared romance she’d been reading on the coffee table. “What’s wrong?”

Yasmin breathed out a weary laugh. “You’ve known me too long.”

“Right back atcha, sister,” Rachel retorted. “Now spill.”

Yasmin shut the door, hung her purse on the hook affixed to the wall, then stood there, her slender hands tangled in as many knots as Rachel’s mind had been. “Marty came by the shop today.”

Rachel bit back her gut reaction and patted the sofa cushion next to her. “Oh, him.”

Yasmin merely nodded, her dark gaze vacant.

The first hint of worry popped into Rachel. She patted the cushion again and softened her voice. “What happened?”

Yasmin started. She glanced at Rachel and the hand resting on the sofa, and finally staggered across the room and plopped onto the couch. “He was raising Cain about all the trouble Juan’s old gang has been causing.”

“How could he possibly know about that?”

“Police scanner.”

Right. Marty had always been a snoopy gossip. Didn’t it just figure he’d keep a police scanner on all the time? “Let me guess. It’s ruining his reputation around town.”

“Got it in one,” Yasmin murmured. “Vice presidents at leading financial institutions have to maintain their image. He demanded his ring back.”

Rachel sat back, appalled. “What?”

“He broke off the engagement. Said he couldn’t afford to be tainted by gossip right now. I guess he really wants that promotion he’s up for.”

“Why that no account son of a—”

“Rachel!”

“Well, he is.” Rachel slumped against the sofa’s back and draped her hand over Yasmin’s icy cold one. “I’m sorry, sister. This is my fault.”

Yasmin sucked in a sharp breath and let it out on a tirade. “This is not your fault, Rachel. It’s my brother’s fault. He’s the one who fell in with that gang. He’s the one who murdered that poor, innocent man and got thrown in jail. He’s the reason Miguel Ramirez is bothering us.”

Rachel’s gaze sharpened on her friend. “What do you mean, us ?”

“You and the girls,” Yasmin said evenly.

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing.”

Rachel leveled a knowing look on Yasmin. “By nothing you mean something , don’t you?”

“Just a little suspicious behavior from folks walking by the shop.” Yasmin shrugged an elegant shoulder, then let it drop. “Nothing to worry over.”

“That’s what I thought when those kids showed up at the lake.”

“I’ll call the police if it gets worse.”

“You do it or I will.” Rachel squeezed Yasmin’s hand. “I’m going to talk to Juan during the next visitation at the prison.”

Yasmin glanced beyond Rachel to the hallway and the bedroom where Kelly and Tiny were fast asleep, then lowered her voice. “You’re terminating his parental rights.”

“I think I have to. If I don’t…”

“It’s ok, Rach. You don’t have to explain again.” Yasmin flipped her hand over in Rachel’s and gripped it tightly. “Sisters always, right? No matter what.”

“No matter what,” Rachel agreed, and settled down next to her closest friend to plan what they were going to do with their man-free afternoon.

Fate’s truck rumbled out of Yasmin’s driveway onto Warwoman Road. Dyuvad resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder and make sure Yasmin’s front door was firmly shut, exactly the way he’d left it. Rachel knew the risks. She wouldn’t jeopardize the girls’ safety by attempting to leave before Yasmin arrived home from work.

Fate shifted gears, then grinned at Dyuvad. “You got it bad, ol’ son. ”

“Concern for a friend does not mean I have it bad.”

“So she’s just a friend, huh? Reckon you won’t mind if I introduce her to a guy I know.” Fate rested one work-roughened hand on the gear shifter, his tone as casual as his posture. “Single fellow by the name of Hank Shortner. Hit it big in tech something or other. I can never keep it straight what.”

Dyuvad turned slowly in the seat, unease a heavy lump in his gut. “You will tell this Hank Shortner to mind his own beeswax.”

Fate snorted out a laugh. “You been hanging around Rachel too long.”

“She’s my landlady.” Dyuvad forced his stiff muscles to relax and glanced out the window, attempting a casual he didn’t feel. “And I like being with her.”

“Yup, it’s bad all right.”

“She’s a good woman.”

“Never said she weren’t.”

“And a good mother.”

“She is that,” Fate agreed mildly. “You got to learn when somebody’s yanking your chain, else your dander’s gonna get up and wander off someday.”

Dyuvad waited for the autolearner’s implanted language translator to supply a meaning, and waited. When his mind remained blank and he couldn’t figure it out on his own, he said, “What?”

“I’m messing with you. Getting your goat? Having a go at you?” Fate shook his head and downshifted through a sharp curve. “Where did you say you was from again?”

“Not here,” Dyuvad gritted out.

“Hunh. Kelly done told me about that fancy watch of yours. Said it did all kinds of stuff she’d heard hide nor tail of. Me, neither.”

“It’s just a watch.”

“Yeah, right. And I’m just a beekeeper.” Fate shook his head, his gaze firmly on the road winding ahead of them under the warm morning sun. “You sure your mama ain’t Mossad or something? ”

Or something was a little too close to the truth for comfort. Dyuvad searched for an adequate reply and came up empty.

“You’re gonna have to ‘fess up someday, ol’ son,” Fate said. “To me or to Rach, it don’t make no difference, you hear? We ain’t got no secrets between us, none big enough for a dog to gnaw on, leastwise.”

Dyuvad inhaled deeply and reached for his patience. “There are times when I don’t understand a single word you say.”

Fate slapped a hand against his thigh, his grin wide. “Hang around long enough and you’ll catch on.”

Hang around . Dyuvad shook his head and flipped on the radio, the one device in the vehicle he could operate with ease. The longer he hung around protecting Tiny and, by extension, her sister and mother, the more he wanted a place in their lives, a real place, not the passing assignment he’d been given by an anonymous Net ‘path.

What would it be like to live with them day by day, to make love to Rachel every night and sleep beside her? To hold her and her daughters, to be a part of their family, and they a part of his?

What would it be like to love them so deeply, he never wanted to let them go?

He rubbed his wrinkled brow, ignoring Fate’s tuneless whistle and the twangy beat thumping out of the truck’s speakers. His assignment came first. After that, when he was free to act as a man should, he could consider the future more carefully.

Between now and then stood a gang of men intent on harm. That he knew how to deal with, and he would, in the way of his mother’s people. Without mercy, without pity, and without a single qualm over what had to be done.

They arrived at Miguel Ramirez’ gated compound on the outskirts of Gainesville an hour later. A guard posted at the gate waved them through without approaching Fate’s truck.

Dyuvad glanced at Rachel’s brother. “How did you know where Ramirez lives again? ”

Fate’s knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “A little birdy told me.”

“A little birdy?”

“That’s mountain talk for somebody I don’t wanna tell you about.”

“Was it a Net ‘path?” Dyuvad asked, and winced. By Fryw, he really needed to rein in his tongue before it landed him in trouble.

Fate jerked his head around and stared at Dyuvad. “Say again?”

“Never mind. Let’s go. I want to spend the evening at home, not traveling.”

“You and me both,” Fate muttered. He eased the truck forward through the gates and followed the circular driveway, then parked in front of wide brick steps leading upward to a wide porch attached to a freshly painted, white two-story house. He flicked off the engine with a quick twist of his hand. “You sure I can’t bring a gun with me?”

Dyuvad tapped a fingertip against his wrist com. “I have something better should we need it.”

“If you say so.” Fate opened his door and stepped out, then ducked back in and pinned a serious gaze on Dyuvad. “Here we go.”

“Yes,” Dyuvad said simply, and exited the truck.

A grim faced young man dressed in a collared purple shirt and dress slacks patted them down, then escorted them into the house and down a short, carpeted hallway lined by unadorned white walls. He opened a thick wooden door and waited for Dyuvad and Fate to enter, then shut it behind them without uttering a single word.

Ramirez was sitting behind a massive wooden desk on the far side of the room, at the edge of the sunlight streaming through two gauze-covered windows. He glanced up at Dyuvad and Fate and dropped the paper he was holding onto a stack in front of him, his expression smug. “I’d ask you to sit, but I don’t want you to stay that long. ”

Fate crossed his arms over his lean chest, his mouth a thin slash across his narrow face. “Your men tried to kill Rachel, you sorry son of a bitch.”

Ramirez’ grin widened. “Says who, amigo?”

“Says my sister.”

“I heard she had a little trouble, couple days back.” Ramirez leaned back in his chair, hands loose on the arms. “Nothing to do with me.”

“Nothing—” Fate barked out a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, right.”

Dyuvad eased slightly in front of him, on the slim hope of deterring the violence coiled in the lighter man’s tense frame. They were outnumbered by a large margin and on Ramirez’ home ground as well. Nothing would be gained by inciting anger. That wasn’t why he and Fate had traveled there.

“We are not here to discuss Rachel’s troubles,” Dyuvad said flatly.

“Then you came a long way for nothing,” Ramirez said, his tone as flat as Dyuvad’s. “She wants to avoid trouble, all she has to do is come work for me.”

Fate cursed under his breath, long and low, and Dyuvad had to agree, even if he didn’t understand the exact wording. Rachel would never debase herself by working for Ramirez, nor would he allow her to. Fate might not have the ability to get her out of this situation, but Dyuvad did.

He deliberately relaxed and smiled, not a friendly gesture, but the smile his mother had cultivated specifically for her enemies. Stiff lips, teeth bared, and eyes as cold as a winter’s night.

Ramirez blanched, then scowled. “That’s the deal.”

“No deal,” Dyuvad said. The softly spoken words dropped into the thin tension stretching between them, cracking it. “You will never bother her again.”

“Ever,” Fate added.

Ramirez sneered and his hands tightened around the arms of his chair. “Or what? You threatening me now? ”

Fate snorted. “Man must be stupid if he can’t recognize the difference between a threat and a promise.”

“A promise, yes,” Dyuvad agreed. He tapped his wrist against his ribs under the cover of his still-crossed arms, activating an attack sequence pre-programmed into his ship. A boom sounded on the far side of the house. The lights flickered and a siren blared, wailing above shouting voices and rapid footsteps.

Ramirez vaulted from his chair, his dark eyes wide. “What the fuck?”

“That,” Fate said, his tone underscored by satisfied laughter, “is what it sounds like when we keep a promise.”

Dyuvad eyed Fate out of the corners of his eyes, surprised at his unruffled rejoinder. How had the other man known what Dyuvad had been planning?

The door opened behind them, and the man who’d escorted Dyuvad and Fate through the house burst through. “Hijo!”

Ramirez jabbed a shaky finger at Fate. “Keep them here.”

He was around the desk and out the door in a controlled burst of frantic energy.

As soon as Ramirez was gone, Dyuvad elbowed Fate. “Ready?”

“Oh, yeah,” Fate said, and leapt at the escort, one hand outstretched, the other drawn back in a fist.

Dyuvad leapt after him to the side, catching the escort’s hand before he could defend himself. Fate’s fist popped the escort’s jaw, the man’s head snapped around, and down he went, landing in a limp heap at their feet.

Fate shook his hand out as he stepped around the man toward the door. “The more I learn about that watch of yours, the better I like it. You reckon you can get me one of those?”

Dyuvad laughed, amused in spite of the situation. “Not anywhere near here.”

“Figures.” Fate poked his head out the door, looked up and down the hallway, then turned to Dyuvad. “If we hurry, they won’t notice we’re gone ‘til it’s too late for ‘em to do anything about it.”

Dyuvad had a plan for that, too, if they became trapped, but it was a failsafe only. Best to try to make it to Fate’s truck first. “Follow me.”

“Any time, ol’ son.” Fate raised his voice over another short barrage from Dyuvad’s ship. “Any time.”

They left Ramirez’ office and wound their way through shouting men without being challenged, then got into Fate’s truck and sped down the driveway far more quickly than when they’d arrived.