Chapter 4 #2
Echo, Inc. had been founded by Robert and David Torloni, which meant Raphael wasn’t his real name. Then something else Victor said came back to her. “How did so many employees from one company end up imprisoned by Nuevo Biotech?”
They’d reached the cabin, but Victor hesitated on the front porch. “They tricked us, pretended to buy out the company and bring the entire staff onboard.”
Compassion made her want to touch him, but his expression was closed off and emotionless.
The situation he described was despicable.
Nuevo set out to trap several hundred people with premeditated malice.
They knew damn well that every Echo, Inc.
employee would be tortured and mutated, and they did it anyway.
“You arrived at their off-world complex thinking you were starting an exciting new job. Instead, you spent most of the next decade in hell.”
“That about sums it up.” He opened the door and motioned her inside.
The rich scent of roasting meat, fresh herbs and vegetables made Claire groan. “If it tastes half as good as it smells, I’ll be a happy camper.”
Raphael glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “Have a seat. It’s almost ready.”
Victor hung Claire’s coat on the stand near the door then escorted her to the kitchen table, which had already been set for the meal. He politely seated her then asked, “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“I’m not much of a drinker,” she admitted, hoping her reticence didn’t seem rude.
“Iolla is really mild, but I can brew some tea if you’d rather.”
“I’ll try the wine as long as you won’t be insulted if I don’t like it.”
He picked up a glass and poured a small amount of dark red liquid into it. “What do you think?”
She took a tentative sip and then another. The wine was sweet without being cloying, and a hint of something spicy lingered on Claire’s tongue. “It tastes like spiced blackberries, sort of.”
He smiled. “The berries are also called iolla and they’re used in a variety of ways.”
“It’s nice,” she decided and held up the glass. He filled it then two more before he joined her at the table.
Raphael carried a sizzling pan to the table a few minutes later. Oblong cutlets of some sort of meat were surrounded by a vibrant purple sauce. “Don’t let the color throw you. I use iolla berries in the sauce and you’ve already determined that you like them.”
“I’m sure it’s delicious. I’ve had effosel before.” She pointed to the potato-like root vegetable that grew wild everywhere.
“That’s kind of unavoidable,” Victor grumbled. “They don’t have a lot of nutrition, but they’ll fill an empty stomach.”
“What are those?” She motioned toward the blueish-green leafy vegetable that Raphael had used to make a raw salad.
“Gerex,” Raphael provided. “They are more texture than taste, so I try to put a lot of flavor in the dressing.”
“Have you always liked to cook?”
“When I have time, which is never.” He put a cutlet on her plate then started passing around the other dishes.
“What sort of meat is this?” she asked as she took a bite.
“Wolf,” Raphael informed, his features expressionless.
She froze, eyes saucer wide, unable to chew, yet not daring enough to spit out a mouthful of food.
Raphael laughed and reached over to squeeze her hand. “It’s called biforen. No hybrids were harmed in the making of this meal.”
Had autocratic Raphael just made a joke? She relaxed enough to smile and register the tastes filling her mouth. The purple sauce was rich and savory, the perfect complement to the slightly gamey biforen. “The wolves might deserve to be barbequed, but I’d rather not turn cannibal.”
“We haven’t restricted access to the bunkhouse,” Raphael said after a brief pause. “Have you been overrun with curious males, or do I need to encourage my people to be more aggressive?”
She chuckled at the irony. “I don’t think any Rydarian male lacks aggression, especially where females are concerned. We’ve had plenty of visitors.”
“Are they behaving themselves?” Raphael shifted his gaze between her and Victor as if to see who would answer first.
“They’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” she assured him.
“Except their leader, of course,” Raphael added with a self-reproving half smile.
“I don’t blame Gabriel for his bad behavior,” she replied. “He has been under a lot of pressure.”
Both males laughed and Claire released a deep sigh. She hadn’t known what to expect tonight. Her other interactions with Raphael had been so tense and explosive. This easy charm was new. She hadn’t realized he was capable of it.
Lost in thought, she took a bite of effosel and inadvertently made a face. The vegetable might be plentiful and easy to prepare, but it was also tasteless.
“We like to drown our effosel in barris, but it’s really spicy, so be warned.” Raphael pointed to the small pitcher containing a reddish-brown gravy.
“Spicy, but so good,” Victor stressed as he proceeded to demonstrate their technique.
“Is anyone logging all the names being given to the plants and animals?” Claire wanted to know. “It’s the start of the Rydarian language.”
“As a matter of fact, a database was begun last year,” Victor confirmed. “There are already several thousand entries.”
“Susan has a background in linguistics. She might be able to help you organize and develop it further.”
Victor nodded, then cleared his mouth with a sip of wine. “I’ll talk to her about the project tomorrow.”
The conversation remained light and friendly while they ate, but the mood changed quickly as they cleared the table. “Thank you for this wonderful meal,” Claire said, starting to feel self-conscious. “I really enjoyed it.”
“You’re welcome back anytime,” Raphael said casually, but his gaze began to smolder.
“Will you tell me a little about your life on Earth?” Claire suspected that they would end the night in bed together, but she knew very little about either of them.
She’d seen them interact with other hybrids, with the females and each other.
Still, she’d feel more comfortable becoming intimate if she understood the forces that shaped their personalities and ideals.
“Or would you rather not talk about the past?”
They set the dishes in the sink and then Raphael motioned toward the living area at the other end of the cabin.
“Thanks to the nano-trackers, our lives on Earth are no longer available to us. We don’t put a lot of energy into thinking about them.
However, I understand your curiosity. What would you like to know? ”
“Where did you grow up? Was any of your childhood happy? I know you lost one of your brothers, but were your parents good to you? Were they good to each other?”
“I didn’t lose my brother,” Raphael corrected firmly. “That makes it sound like he was misplaced. He was viciously, brutally murdered.”
She tensed, instantly regretting her decision to have the proverbial getting-to-know-you conversation. “You’re right. I’m sorry. The phrase belittles your pain, and I know better. Why don’t we talk about something else.”
“I was objecting to the phrase,” Raphael said as he sat in one of three chairs. “It makes me angry every time I hear it. Your interest in my background is welcome.”
Victor sat on one end of the couch, so Claire chose a chair that allowed her to see both males. Not wanting to upset him again, she chose her questions more carefully. “Where were you born?”
“I’ll make this easy for you,” Raphael decided. “Here’s my basic biography. I was born and raised in Sacramento, California. My mother died giving birth to my sister. The baby didn’t survive. Despite my father’s devastation, he made sure his grief never compromised the care of his three sons.”
Claire’s heart was breaking, and he’d barely begun. Clichéd responses annoyed him, so she didn’t bother saying ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ Instead, she asked, “How old were you when your mother died?”
“Eight. We all missed her horribly, but we developed a new routine.” He paused, clearly struggling with the memories her interest was unearthing.
How did an eight-year-old heal after the loss of his mother? She understood grief, but that sort of devastation was on an entirely different level. And Raphael’s tragedies had just begun. “How many years were there between your mother’s death and your brother’s murder?”
“Five.” He gazed off into the distance, his tone low and emotion thickened. “Dad remained strong and supportive through it all. He was an amazing man.”
He referred to his father in the past tense. She dreaded the next question, but saw no way around it. “Is he still alive?”
Raphael shook his head and looked at her. “I was told of his death during my captivity. I hoped it was another way of manipulating me, but the event was confirmed when Nuevo was liberated.”
The event? She didn’t have the courage to ask. Every question she’d posed so far had revealed something horrible.
Raphael’s lips curved into a tense smile. “I made that sound more dramatic than it was. There was no foul play involved in my father’s death. He succumbed to a nasty virus.”
“He still died,” she objected.
“Each incident made my bond with Gabriel stronger. I’m not sure I would have survived without my twin.”
She’d been close to Joel, but the relationship hadn’t been equal.
She was the strong one, the one expected to solve problems and offer comfort.
She couldn’t imagine having someone to shelter and support her.
“Your background is harrowing, and that’s without your years at Nuevo.
I would be curled up in the fetal position if all that happened to me. ”
His smile broadened. “Maybe for an hour or two, but you’re stronger than you know. Most of us can withstand a lot more than we’re willing to admit.”
“There were a few good times in there too,” Victor pointed out. “High school was overshadowed by Charles’ death, but you enjoyed your years at Caltech.”
“True.” Raphael gradually relaxed as they moved farther away from the tragedies.