31. KATIE
Chapter thirty-one
KATIE
I find the red book. Tucked on a shelf with other nonfiction tomes about farming census from the last hundred years and a collection of records of family heraldry, there was a slim volume bound in a supple red leather.
The first few pages are hand written, almost illegible for the swirling cursive and faded pen strokes. But after what must have been some kind of collection of letters about Travelers, was a folio of printed documents. Names, dates, and locations. All the Travelers who’d come to Savolinna over the last two hundred and fifty years.
I read eagerly, looking for anything that might help. There were a handful that came from Europe– mostly Scotland, Ireland, Germany, and a few from Switzerland. One from China that had come through in a border community one hundred and fifty years ago. And three from North Africa.
But none from the United States, or– as far as I could tell– none from North or South America. Which meant if there was a way home, we'd not be able to get back to that oak tree in Oregon. Great .
But I can figure out getting us home from Morocco or even China. Challenging, yes. But doable. Logistics is my speciality after all.
I keep scanning the pages, looking for notes that might just be the right clue for solving this mystery. There were several people who came through in the foothills of the mountains, and a footnote that indicated many more likely had come through but had been picked up by the Kharawyn patrols. The note suggests only terrible things for Travelers caught in the Northern territories. Like medical experimentation.
I shiver, a knot forming in my stomach. Loren had warned that the Northerners weren’t fond of Travelers– or anyone that wasn’t like them. Consistently it’s the foothills that see Travelers come through– a lot more from other planets than Earth, including a pair of non-humanoid beings that looked like highly intelligent slugs.
What a world.
Somehow, Amaarta was like a way station, or where socks go when the drier eats them. Only instead of lost socks, it’s lost people from all around the universe.
“Are you hungry?” Loren pops his head in and I squint to see him. My eyes have been fixed on the page in front of me and it takes them a moment to adjust. I probably need to get glasses, but I’m not about to admit that to my Alphas.
No. Not my Alphas. To Pack Murphy, my hosts. Because I am just a guest, a visitor. A Traveler .
“No thanks,” I say. Three cups of coffee has held back any hunger, and with what I now know about the Kharawyn Kingdom, I’m not feeling especially hungry.
“Do you want company?” Loren grins at me, his hair flopping boyishly over his glasses.
I hear the hint of hopefulness in his words. I shake my head; I can’t encourage him. Can’t give him a reason to hope that we can be anything more than passing acquaintances.
But the way his face falls, just the slightest bit, pulls at my heart. I want to invite him in, to let myself curl up in his arms and listen to the steady rhythm of his heart while I try to shake off all the images of medical experiments my brain has decided to offer up.
But no. Instead, I set my book aside and stretch.
“I think I need to move around. Too much time in my own head,” I say, and stand. Loren smiles again and Lord above he is a breathtaking man. Shy yet sure. All open arms and tenderness. No bravado.
I walk over to him without thinking, letting him enfold me in his arms.
“You okay after last night?” He says from where he rests his chin on the top of my head.
I sigh. “Yeah,” I say, and find, I really am okay. The dreams didn’t pull me under again, not with Loren beside me.
“Hey Tough Girl!” Max calls, poking his head under Loren’s arm like a puppy. I giggle a laugh, something tight finally relaxing inside my chest.
“You promised to go to the gym with me– how about today? Feel up to it?”
I open my mouth to say no, but there’s not much I can do as far as research goes right now. I’ll need to look at up-to-date databases.
“Sure. I need a good workout.”
Max offers me a deliciously devious smile.
“Just you wait. I’m going to see what our girl is made of.”
“You can’t hurt her, Max.” Loren looks sternly at his packmate. But Max pulls me out of Loren’s arms, looping one casually around my shoulders. “I’d never dream of it– you know, unless she asks.” He winks.
I shrug him off with a snort. “I’m going to change. And no hurting please, I don’t like to mix my pain and pleasure.”
I meet him in the garage wearing my new black and pink gym set– helpfully provided by the Conservatory.
“No motorcycle today?” I ask, when he opens the door to an SUV.
“Not today, it might rain in the afternoon and that’s not how I want to get soaked.”
He grins again, and I roll my eyes. This boy is worse than a middle schooler.
“Here,” Max says, handing me a small bottle. I turn it over in my hands.
“A scent canceling spray?” I ask.
“Yup, give yourself a good once over with that before we get in the car. I don’t want a repeat of what happened at the hospital. I’ve got some shampoo on order too– but the kind that works best is out of stock, so it will come in a few days.”
I spritz the fine mist over my body, and Max calls, “More.” So I twirl in the cloud of droplets I’ve sprayed in the air. There’s a mildly antiseptic smell-- almost like chlorine, and I sneeze.
“I hate masking your scent, because you are delicious,” Max says, opening the door for me. “But I’m not taking chances today. The only Alpha I want sniffing around you is me.” He winks.
“You’re impossible,” I say, but I’m smiling.
“Do you just want to work out, or do you want to spar?” Max asks, as he pulls out onto the road. He’s let the windows down, a breeze carrying the last of the chemical mist out of the car. We move out of our Fourth Ward neighborhood but not toward the trendy third ward, we head closer to the heart of the city.
“Hmmm, I know I need to lift– I haven't in at least two weeks. I can feel it. Maybe some sparring. But it’s been a while since I’ve done much.” I shrug. I haven't sparred since before my last deployment, and the blast and my knee…
I roll my shoulders. I will not dwell. I will stay present.
SUV. Max. Road. Gym.
“Sure thing. We’ll warm up and see who's in. If you want to break a few hearts, then you can. Otherwise, I’ll just take you through some weight movements and see what you know.”
Max slides seamlessly from shameless flirt to calculated coach.
We pull into a glassed in three-story building. It’s all polished chrome, and blue-green glass reflecting the twin suns.
“Is this all yours?” I ask, a little breathless. It’s beautiful . And massive.
Max wraps an arm around my shoulders. “It is– though we do have a Sport Med Spa that rents out the upper story.”
Max pulls open the door and a strangely familiar scent of disinfectant, sweat, and overly-sweet electrolyte drinks hits me.
I guess even interstellar gyms are still gyms.
Several people call greetings to Max as we enter, but a hush sweeps over the once rowdy gym, two dozen pairs of eyes all trained on me. Max casually drapes his arm over my shoulders. I want to shrug him off, but his posture is protective instead of purely possessive.
“Guys, this is Katie. My Omega. Touch her and I will personally rip your spleen out.” Max hollers, his tone jovial, but his posture serious as death. A few of the younger guys laugh, but the older ones just watch me with a stare of both hunger and… loathing .
Hunger for me, or at least what I must represent to them. The coveted Omega . And, for at least a moment, undisguised hatred for Max, one of the Alphas to have landed an Omega.
I am in the Lion’s Den, and even with a scent canceling spray, I must smell like lunch.