Direct Contact Read online

  She swallowed, trying not to look at him, trying not to respond. She wanted him so badly, but she didn’t want him just for tonight, in a ratty hospital with death knocking at their doorstep. She didn’t want him only as a release from this nightmare and a respite from this destitution. She wanted him forever, in a nice little house with a nice little fence and a nice little dog, and, heck, maybe even a kid or two. They could adopt.

  But they couldn’t. They wouldn’t. It would never be. Tomorrow, one or both of them could die.

  She’d just begun to heal herself from the mistakes she’d made with him back at the palace. They never should have slept together in the first place. Now, if he died, she’d be devastated, but she would contain it, bury it, will it away and move on. If she opened up again, she didn’t know that she’d be able to quash the feelings when it was time. And if he died, if he left her alone with the aftermath of the revolution, she’d never forgive him. Or herself. She’d never recover. It was about self-preservation.

  She tried to say yes, yes, it was a lie, that she had been using him and had been propelling him along for her own gain. If she made him angry, he could take out his aggression tomorrow on the emperor and his minions. But when she opened her mouth, no sound came out. When she opened her mouth, he kissed it.

  His lips were warm against hers, the raw contact almost desperate in its strength. He kissed her with abandon, with what they both must be feeling. He kissed her as if he’d never get to kiss her again, and that alone made her heart shatter despite the walls she’d haphazardly thrown up everywhere. It brought tears to her eyes.

  He broke off and tilted her face up to his, wiping away the drops from her cheeks. “Am I that bad?” he asked quietly, searching her gaze with his own. “A kiss from me is so hateful it makes you cry?”

  He backed up then until his backside hit the wall behind him. His head was down, and he stared at his feet. “I’ll be going, then,” he whispered as he started to step toward the door. “I’m so sorry. Sorry for misreading you and sorry for bothering you. And, God, so sorry for making you cry.”

  Before he could walk away, she leaned forward, grabbing his wrist.

  “That’s not why I’m crying,” she murmured. He stopped but didn’t look back, and she felt compelled to explain. The words tumbled from her lips in a jumble. “Look, I can’t distract you from your mission tomorrow, and you can’t distract me, and I meant what I said about…about loving you, but love doesn’t matter in a time like this. It can only make things worse and I want so much for us, but it can never happen, and if I lie to myself about it now, I’ll only break apart into a million pieces when the whole world needs me to keep it together…”

  He had turned back and encircled her in a strong hug, burying her face in his broad chest.

  Finally, she breathed out on a sob. “I just—what if you die?”

  He stroked her hair, twining his fingers in it, twirling it, soothing her with his touch. “I’d love to tell you I won’t die,” he said, resting his chin atop her head as he moved to sit down beside her on the small cot, “but I can’t.” He held her close, leaning her up against him so that she heard his strong, stable heartbeat beneath his shirt. “Or, maybe, you’ll die. Or, maybe, we both will. But, Julie, maybe, we won’t. Should we fight now just so we don’t feel like we’re losing as much if we lose our lives? Should you push me away? Should I get bitter and vengeful? Should we both hurt just to prepare for more hurt tomorrow? Tell me how that makes any sense.”

  Well, when he put it like that…

  She didn’t answer, just stayed where she was against the welcoming warmth of his body. She had nothing left, no arguments, no agreements, no plans, nothing. All she had was this moment.

  “You think I don’t wish things could be different?” he asked. “That we could be back on Terrecina, you officially signed on to come to my room each night, us telling each other about our days, making love, falling asleep and doing it again the next? Why did I find you and move on you just as life was coming to an end? I go over that question constantly in my mind. Why couldn’t things be different?”

  “That’s the selfishness George warned about,” she said, her replied muffled in his shirt.

  “Well, he didn’t warn me,” Malcolm said. “And he must not have known me that well, either. Just because I want a life with you that’s comfortable and familiar, like the one we had, doesn’t mean I’d let all these people falter and fall and die to keep it. We both know we have to do this. We’ve known it for weeks, and you for years. But we have to have faith, Julie. We have to trust that we will make it to the other side. Alive. And together.” He sighed and pulled her closer. “And if we don’t, if one of us succumbs, I’ll wait for you. Either here or wherever the next life is, I’ll wait.”

  His words brought on another torrent of tears, and he shushed her gently, moving her head from his chest and locking his dark, soulful eyes on hers. He bent his face toward her and kissed away the tears, each touch so gentle and loving she thought she’d burst with it, with this soft yet unyielding love.

  “You really are a hero, you know that?” she asked on a smile.

  “No more so than you are,” he replied, gathering her in his arms and laying her back against her small, flat pillow. She shivered when he pinned her there with his weight, his whole body loving and sweet but for the fiery heat pressing against the apex of her thighs.

  He blew feathery kisses upon her face, tracing her jaw line up to her temples then lowering his mouth to her earlobe. He nipped it, and she writhed beneath him, the pressure of their bodies together intensifying. He trailed a line down her neck, and when he hit the faded hem of the old hospital shirt she’d been given for sleep, he raised himself up, kneeling over her and yanked the garment over her head. Doubt flickered over his face, and for a moment, she felt self-conscious until he draped the shirt back over her like a blanket, stood then shut the door.

  “Do you want to do this?” he asked when he returned.

  She nodded slightly. She needed Malcolm like she needed to breathe, and she’d been a fool to think otherwise and put them both through this additional madness.

  Needing no more answer, Malcolm lowered himself to her, tossing the fabric covering her breasts aside, and took a nipple into his mouth, teasing it between his teeth until the nub hardened and ached beneath his caresses. He thumbed her other breast, and she arched below him, her hips seeking contact with his. Groaning, he crushed her with his weight, moving his hands down her sides to clutch at her buttocks and rock her more deeply into him. Balancing himself on his knees once more, he let go of the swell of her with his mouth and blew gently on the spot. The cool air against the wetness caused a knot of desire to form in her lower belly.

  He fumbled with the button on his jeans then stood to slip his clothes off, and she murmured a protest at his absence.

  Smiling down at her, he leaned in, bracing his arms on either side of her on the cot, even as his feet remained planted to the floor. He kissed her sternum, trailing his lips down to her navel, and she moaned as tension coiled at the base of her spine, her vision blurring.

  She grasped his strong shoulders and pulled him toward her face, looking at him. She wanted to burn this image into her brain forever: the fall of his dark hair around his angled cheek bones and strong jaw, the planes of his upper chest and arms, corded with lean, straining muscle, the tapered thinness of his flat abdomen with dark curls circling around and leading down to the throbbing thick length hovering above her belly.

  He leaned down and kissed her, and the heavy erection brushed against her hip. She gasped, moving her hand down to cup the weighty sac, to feel its incredible softness.

  Groaning, he lowered himself a few inches farther, and she felt the wetness at the end of his cock slicking her skin. He rested on one elbow and reached the other hand down toward her, pushing his fingers up into her, slowly and rhythmically. His eyes widened as she instinctively clenched around him.

 
; “I don’t have anything,” he whispered.

  She shook her head. “I can’t get pregnant,” she said, “and I trust you. If you say it’s okay, it’s okay.”

  He nuzzled her neck, the stubble on his jaw causing delicious ripples of lust to spread through her whole body, culminating in a burst of energy at her core. She bucked up into him as he slid himself into her. The welcomed pressure hitched her breath in her throat as he filled her. He sank in slowly, thrusting inward even as he kept his upper body supported on his elbows. He angled his hips, pushing against her thighs in a smooth motion, hitting a spot high within her over and over again, the frequency of the sensation there heightening until it was a high-pitched buzzing, causing her to vibrate with desire, searching for the touch that would send her over the edge. He raised his hand to his lips, licking his thumb, then placed the moistened tip on her clit, circling the nub, sending shocks up her spine until the pressure gathering at her base of her abdomen exploded outward and she screamed, raking her nails down Malcolm’s back and crossing her legs behind his knees as the waves of orgasm washed over her.

  Just as her world was coming back into focus, Malcolm gasped and shuddered, his body racking as he surged harder into her.

  “Julie,” he whispered through his teeth, shivering his release and clutching her close.

  He dropped down onto her for a moment, kissing her shoulder, before rolling off and settling at her side. He sighed, pulling her into his arms. Julie breathed out, feeling totally content for just a minute before the reality of what lay before them came back into stark clarity.

  Even as the dooming feeling sank deep into her gut, she pushed away any conscious thought of the next day. No matter what happened, she’d always have this moment. She etched into memory the way his large hands felt across her chest, the comforting warmth of his body behind hers, the steady sound of his breathing as he dropped off to sleep.

  He snuggled closer to her, and she relaxed, allowing the darkness to overcome her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Malcolm made no noise as he rose from the small, uncomfortable cot, careful not to wake Julie. He left a tender kiss on her forehead, foreboding overtaking him as he remembered the last time he had done so. That had been the last moment of his old life. He couldn’t help but feel as if this marked another change for the worse.

  He pulled on his dirty jeans and found his T-shirt. He yanked it over his head and shrugging it around his shoulders. He slipped into his boots, and gave Julie one last look before going over to his bag and readying the vials for injection. Then he made his way to the entrance of the old hospital.

  He walked past the doors to the security hallway on the left, taking three flights of stairs to the hospital’s top floor.

  The stench hit him like a wall when he creaked open the door to the building’s upper corridor. He doubled over, clenching his gut as the smell of rotting human flesh rose into his nostrils. Scanning the area, he felt bile rising in his throat. Piles of bodies in various stages of decay lay against the walls of the darkened corridor. George had warned him that they’d only cleaned the first floor of the building, but nothing could have prepared Malcolm for the patients’ corpses spilling out of the doors, many obviously having tried to escape from their destiny. The plagues had done more than ravage the city; they’d devastated it.

  He made his way to the next stairwell at end of the hallway, stepping over limbs and ignoring the eyes of the dead as he went. The steps led down, but a ladder extended to the roof, where the ship was waiting for him.

  He welcomed the heavy, soot-filled air, a break from the dank, moldy rot of the third floor. The keys George had given him the night before jangled heavily in his pocket, and he had to smile at the old ships still using keys. What an inconvenience.

  He jacked open the doors, slid into the pilot’s seat and started the old engine with a rumbling roar. He steeled himself against the sadness creeping into his chest, and told himself he’d see them all again soon. As the ship rose into the air, he had the depressing feeling he was lying to himself.

  * * * *

  Preparations were almost complete. They’d secured all the doors, barricading them by piling up old furniture in front of them. It wouldn’t hold forever, but it would buy precious minutes and slow the assault to a manageable level. Or so they hoped.

  After Julie had told him about her battle with Teo Mathis, George was banking on Teo being too impaired to make the journey and lead the attack. She hoped he was right. Their scraggly army of misfits and DNA-enhanced girls had a better chance of actually winning, without the vicious army leader at the helm of Terrecina’s group. At least, they could stall the guards long enough for Malcolm to return with the emperor or with news of the man’s death.

  “Julie, hide these vials,” George called, pointing at Malcolm’s satchel. She turned and grabbed the bag, stashing it in her closet-room, under the cot. She checked her gun and stuck it in her pants. While they were still dirty and uncomfortable, they felt slightly better after she’d attempted a wash and dry in the hospital’s kitchen area. Of course, with the thin scraps of fabric covering her breasts and stretched over her thighs, she couldn’t really hide the weapon. Hopefully, she wouldn’t need the element of surprise.

  She walked back to the lobby area, where the cots had been cleared and set against the doors. George was giving last-minute instructions. She found Anna and stood next to the girl, giving her arm a squeeze. Together, they listened, though Julie could hardly comprehend what was being said over the buzzing of adrenaline through her body.

  * * * *

  Malcolm landed just beyond the outer gates of the palace, without jostling the aircraft. He was getting better at this flying business. His access badge worked, and he gave a silent prayer of thanks. He made his way to the palace’s ornate side entrance, and the doors slid open as he swiped his badge once more. The light blinked yellow instead of green, but he couldn’t stop to worry about that. It only meant he’d have to be even quicker, even quieter. He figured he’d slip into one of the smaller hallways where anyone alerted to his presence as he had entered wouldn’t be able to find him. He never got that far, making it four steps into the foyer when glove-covered hands smothered his face, and beefy arms dragged him up the stairs.

  The men dumped him in a strange parlor-like room where Number Twenty-six sat in regal glory, adorned in a tight-fitting yellow gown that flared into a lace train arranged gracefully around her feet. She wore a large ring on her wedding finger, and the soft light of the room glinted off the diamond face.

  “Twenty-six,” Malcolm grunted. “Where’s the emperor?”

  She laughed, the sound tinkling from her lips as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

  “He’s down in The Levels, with most of our army. Did you think he’d let you wander off with the entire procreation program? We need the serum to make our baby.” She rubbed her stomach and looked at him with menace.

  “How did you even get here? He was ready to toss you.”

  She flashed bright eyes at him. “Everyone’s entitled to one mistake in their lives. When I proved my loyalty by outing you and your girlfriend, he…changed his mind. So, where are the vials?”

  “On The Levels,” Malcolm said.

  “Good thing you’re here, then,” she replied snidely. “You can make more.”

  “Not that easy,” he said. “I burned the notes. “There are only a few vials left, and they’re with the others. To make more would take years of re-research.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she scoffed.

  “It doesn’t matter to me whether you believe me or not,” he said. “The emperor is walking into a trap, and he’ll be dead before you catch a glimpse of those vials—which means no magical spawn.”

  “There’s no way they can kill him,” she said. “He’s surrounded by guards. He’ll get the vials and bring them back to me. He wants this even more than I do.”

  “Shame he won’t get the chance, then,
” Malcolm replied. “The other girls are set to take the injections at noon today. There’ll be none left by the time he fights his way through.”

  His bluff got her attention. “What?”

  “There’s no way to get the vials.”

  “Sure there is.” She reached into a fold in her gown and pulled out a gun, pointing it at him. “You flew up here. Fly me down.”

  “I can’t do that. You’ll get killed.”

  “Not with you as an insurance policy. Now move, or I’ll blow your head off and take my chances that the emperor will make it back alive with my injection.”

  That didn’t go as planned.

  Malcolm’s mind whirred as he tried to come up with a new plan. He led her to the ship. He had no other choice. Still, he reasoned, he should be able to overpower her somehow with just the two of them. He just had to be careful not to get shot.

  * * * *

  Julie stood at the door, dozens of girls and George behind her. The surge of the emperor’s guards had been silent until the last moment. Now, they closed in on the rebels, banging down the doors. At the windows, Anna led six others, acting as snipers and picking off guards here and there where they could. Still, no one had been prepared for the sheer numbers that had descended upon them. The whole of Terrecina’s army was small, but when concentrated on just one building, it was more than effective.

  The wood of the old front doors began to splinter as armored men bashed against it. Within moments, they’d smash through it. Julie looked back at George, and he gave her the signal. While the other entryways were blocked completely with furniture, a two-by-four wedged between the handles of these doors was all that stood between them and the stream of men on the other side.

  Crash.

  Crash.

  Crash.

  Julie waited, feeling the rhythm of the men. When they pulled back to strike again, she concentrated all her strength and pushed the wooden slat, sliding it out from the handles. On the next crash, a pile of surprised guards landed at her feet and toppled over each other, cursing and fumbling on the ground.