Authors: Anna Alexander
“Marco?” Bale turned away from her and plunged his fingers
through his hair, pulling at the strands with a frustrated growl. “DeWinter. I
should have known.”
He prowled within the confined space of the living room as
if she weren’t there, wiping at his face again and emitting sounds of
frustration until he bent double and stared at his boots. She held her breath
and watched him with eyes so wide, she felt the orbs begin to dry out, but no
way was she going to blink and miss his next move. What was going to happen now
that he knew she was aware of his secret?
Just when she thought her heart was going to burst with
anticipation, Bale began to laugh, a deep self-deprecating chuckle that was in
no way jovial. He shook his head and straightened with a weary sigh.
“The arrogance of man will always be his downfall,” he said
then speared her with a hard look. “And here I foolishly believed I could tell
you on my own terms.”
At least he wasn’t going to insult her by saying she was
crazy and deny everything. “I just want to understand why, Bale. Why with the
hood and freaky-long sword and the nickname?”
“I never intended for
this
.” He circled his arms
around in a great arc. “For you, the media, that stupid nickname. None of it.”
The thought chilled her to the bone, but she had to ask.
“Are we through? Now that I know your secret, are we done?”
“You don’t know,” he whispered, closing his eyes and shaking
his head. With a clenched fist, he tapped at his sternum, right over the
starburst-shaped tattoo. “You don’t know it all. You don’t know anything. You
don’t know about them. Here. Natalia and Emmaline. My wife and child.”
Wife. Wife? “Oh my God. You’re married?” she shrieked.
She knew it! She knew everything between them was too good
to be true. How could this be happening again? Had she offended God somehow and
was doomed to always fall for married men? And a child too? How many lives was
she destined to ruin?
Now she was the one pacing the room with her arms wrapped
around her middle and plaintive groans spewing from her mouth.
“Ari.”
“Oh God, I’m cursed. I have to be. Why? Why me?”
“Ari.”
“How could you?” she shouted. “How could you do that to your
family?”
“Ari, it’s not—”
“Don’t touch me.” She jumped away from his outstretched
hand, but he was faster and caught her around the arms.
“They’re dead, Ari. They are dead.”
As his words finally registered her brain stopped with all
the subtlety of a car smashing into a brick wall at seventy miles an hour.
“Oh, Bale.” Heat ignited across her face. “I am so sorry.
I-I didn’t know.”
“I know.” Right before her eyes, the Bale she knew aged.
Across his forehead and around his mouth, lines of remembered grief carved into
his skin. “I know.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This entire day was just one fucking fubar
mess. And it seemed as if every time she breathed, she just kept making things
worse. She clenched her hands at her sides and pinched her lips together. Maybe
if she pretended she were a statue, she could avoid making a bigger ass out of
herself.
“Ah, Ari. I promised myself I wouldn’t make the same
mistakes with you as I did with Natalia, yet it seems as if I cannot break the
pattern. Please, sit down.” He guided her to the nearest barstool. Once she was
perched on the edge, he backed away and ran his hands through his hair.
As much as she wanted to ask him a million questions, she
held her tongue. This was Bale’s story, and she had a feeling very few heard
the tale, if any.
As was his fashion, his mouth opened and closed several
times before he spoke. “I was already in the guard when I met Natalia. Her
father owned a farm that was in the same colony as my family. We met when I had
returned home to share the news of my assignment. As the youngest daughter, her
options for marriage were limited, all her father wanted for her was security
and felt I would be a good match. Natalia was delicate and sweet. Everything
that I am not, and when our Emmaline came along, she was just like her mother,
so fragile.”
The language he used confused and ensnarled Ari at the same
time. The way he spoke, it sounded as if he came from the medieval period and
not this century. No matter the words, it was obvious by his solemn tone that
even though his marriage was arranged, he cared for his wife.
“They were my light, so bright, so pure.” His stare turned
hard. “You have seen my darkness. Know my hungers. Seen my temper. I couldn’t
show that around them, share that side of myself with my wife. I— I did not
trust her enough to share all of me. I loved her, but was too afraid of what
would happen if she knew the real me. So, I sent her and Em to live with my
family, visiting when I could, but keeping them as far away from my darkness as
possible. And then the revolution began.”
Revolution? In Sweden? Weren’t they like the happiest people
on Earth? “I don’t understand.”
“Our king had lost favor with the people. First it was
rioting, then it became all-out battles to dethrone him. As a member of his
guard, I was often dispatched to squelch the opposition.”
Now she was definitely confused. “Wait, wait, you lost me.
How could all of that happen in Sweden and no one over here heard of this? How
could that not make the news?”
“This wasn’t in Sweden. It was in Skandavia.”
With the way he said that with his head down, as if braced
for a blow, scared her to ask, “And where is that?”
He sighed. “It is the largest of Saturn’s moons.”
“Saturn?”
He nodded.
Did she hear him correctly? “As in the planet?”
He nodded again.
She sucked in one breath, then another. The words stuck in
her throat until she forced them out. “Are you telling me that you’re an alien
from outer space?”
“Ya.”
“Okay. I’m not sure if I’m more upset about the fact that
you were married and never told me, or that you’re claiming to be an alien.”
Whoosh. Faster than she could blink, Bale raced around the
room in a streak of movement. When he came to a stop, he lifted the couch up
over his head without a breath of sound or the slightest grimace before gently
setting it back down.
“Those are some of my powers,” he mumbled.
Breathe, Ari. Breathe.
There had been a few times in her life when she had been
struck dumb. This was a thousand times worse than all of them put together. It
was as if her body were in a coma, yet her brain was wide awake and her eyes
open so she could see and hear everything going on around her, yet she couldn’t
move.
“I’ll, um, get to how I came to Earth in a moment,” he said.
Sure. Fine. Take your time. She might have said it out loud,
but she was certain all she managed were a few unintelligible squeaks and a
faint nod.
“The revolutionaries did everything they could to gain the
backing of the people, resorting to force if necessary. My retinue received
word that several colonies were to be targeted in a massive siege by the
opposition, including the castle and my home colony. I wanted to protect my
family and go with the unit that had been dispatched. The soldiers were new,
young, and the people of my colony were simple farmers. They knew nothing of war
and fighting. But as part of the king’s retinue, my commander forbade me to go.
In my gut, I knew all was not well, so I disobeyed the general and left.”
As his eyes watered, her stomach turned.
“It was too late.” The catch in his voice broke her heart.
“The soldiers that had been sent were all dead in the town square. Every
farmhouse was burned to the ground. My father and mother, slaughtered. I found
Natalia in the field, her body curled around the babe’s.”
“Stop. Bale, stop.” She leapt from her seat and laid her
hands on his cheeks. In his eyes she saw he was trapped in the past. Seeing his
family where they had died all over again. “I don’t need to know the details.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine anything so horrible.”
“That is why I fight, Ari. To protect those who cannot
defend themselves. People like Natalia and my Em. I was too late for them, but
I can save someone else. Someone like you.”
“Wow. Just. Wow. Then how did you get to Earth?” She choked
on the word. His story was too much to process.
He grasped her hands, holding them tight in his. “When my
family died, I went to a dark place. A place so dark, you lose your soul.
Anger, devastation, nothing comes close to describe how I felt. I wanted to
die, but I wanted everyone who I felt had a hand in my family’s deaths to
suffer first. Every revolutionary who had remained, I killed. Every soldier who
had been there, I tracked and eliminated. No man was left standing but one, my
former commander who held me back.”
“Your commander.” Chills shot down her spine and she tried
to pull away, but his grip kept her at his side. “Oh my God. Lucian?”
“Yes.”
“You wanted to kill Lucian?” It was all too much. This was a
man she thought he considered friend, practically family, and he had wanted him
dead?
“I was beyond devastated and willing to do anything to
obtain my goal. When I heard there was a contract out on Lucian’s life, I took
it.”
“You took money to kill? Like a hit man?”
“That’s what I was. That’s how I earned enough money to
survive and have my revenge. I was an assassin.”
The ease with which he said the word, the utmost certainty
in his statement stole the last of her sanity.
“You killed people for money?” she asked, yet the words
sounded muddled in her head.
He nodded.
“You killed people for money.”
“Ya.”
“You have killed people. Dead. Like dead-dead. For money,”
she repeated slowly, enunciating each syllable.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and the little
emotion that had shown on his face completely disappeared as he said clear enough
for her to have no doubt, “Yes.”
Okay, so her boyfriend was not only a vigilante but also an
alien with superpowers, oh and
killed people for money
.
Fuck the straw that broke the camel’s back, this was a
frickin’ bulldozer dropped on a tiny glass figurine. She was done.
Bile rose in her throat and she swayed on her feet as the
room closed in around her. “I’m gonna be sick,” she mumbled.
Red and black swirled in her vision. Somehow she managed to
stumble toward the bathroom, ricocheting off the doorjamb into the wall. The
doorknob nailed her in the side as she fell to the floor.
He killed for money.
The contents of her stomach ran up and down her esophagus as
the words barreled like a runaway freight train in her mind.
He killed for money.
To fall for an adulterer was one thing, but a murderer? A
hired gun? What was wrong with her! What kind of person falls in love with
someone who has no regard for human life? Human. Ha! Maybe that was the key. He
was a fucking alien from fucking outer space!
Her throat was raw, her abdomen on fire and her head fit to
explode as she struggled for air and collapsed against the cool plastic toilet
seat.
“Ariel?” Bale rested his hand on the middle of her back.
A murderer’s hand.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me,” she repeated in a shriek
and batted his hand away.
How could she ever have thought his hands were gentle? Hands
that had brought her to a pleasure so high, she never wanted him to let go.
Blood stained those hands and now they stained her conscience.
He came at her again. “Ari—”
“Don’t fucking touch me!” Her shoe flew off as she kicked in
the direction of his shape. Next was the wastebasket, an easy-to-reach
projectile, then the toilet brush. Whatever she could lay her hands on she
threw at him as she screamed for him to leave until she tasted blood and her
vocal cords gave out.
Even after the front door closed and she was left alone,
great gasping sobs ripped from her throat. The reaction was irrational, insane,
completely over the top. Any moment the men in white coats were going to burst
in and lock her away and she’d completely understand why, but no matter how
hard she tried to gain some semblance of control, her brain refused to process
the command, too fried to comprehend the slightest bit of information. Well, all
except for one fact.
He killed for money.
Ever so slowly, her vision returned and the outline of the
ceiling fan came into focus. At her feet the bathroom door stood open,
revealing an empty living room where Bale had stood and shattered her world.
She worked her foot around until her toes touched the door and she pushed,
shutting her inside the darkness.
That was two doors between her and Bale’s ugliness. How many
more would it take before she could find the strength to lift her head? To
move? To breathe?
To live?
Bale lay in the hallway outside Ari’s apartment and dropped
the barrier on his emotions to be doused in all her pain. Tears streamed down
his face and his throat ached in sympathy as Ari wailed inside. Her howls were
much the same as his had been when he had found the bodies of his family. His
vocal cords had healed, but his voice had never been the same again, just as he
had never been the same.
Just as Ari would never be the same. The world she knew no
longer existed, and he was the destroyer. Another death that rested squarely in
his hands. While he never struck her physically, she now carried the scar of
her injury for all to hear every time she spoke.
Of course he knew Ari’s reaction to his truth was not going
to go well, but the absolute devastation that tore her asunder flayed him to
the bone. But it wasn’t her anger at him that stabbed him in the heart but the
hatred she harbored against herself.
He could hear her thoughts now. How could she have let a
monster touch her, love her? She must be broken or twisted in order to have
felt affection for such evil.
He wanted to scream at her, shake her until she realized
that nothing was wrong with her, that she was perfect. That her love for him
was magic.
And now it was gone.
Even if he had wanted to keep the truth from her, deep down
he knew he was on borrowed time. Sooner or later he’d have to come clean and
face the repercussions of his actions, both on Skandavia and Earth. Prolonging
the ruse was only going to make the moment more difficult, impossible as it was
to imagine. As it was, he felt as if he were stripped of his flesh and dipped
in acid.
“Bale.” The soft sweep of a hand against his cheek brought
his eyes open.
Amaryllis knelt by his side and Lucian stood behind her.
Both had the same expressions of worry and devastation carved upon their faces.
“What happened?” Lucian asked. His gaze went to the door as
Ari’s cries came to an abrupt end.
“She knows.” He shook his head and curled into a ball.
“Everything.”
“Everything?”
“All of it. The fucking Claymore. Skandavia. Natalia and
Emmaline. The killing. All of it,” he gritted out.
“
Jesu.
No wonder the poor girl sounds gutted.”
“Lucian,” Amaryllis gasped.
“It’s the truth.”
“Doesn’t matter. Bale.” Her hand moved to stroke his hair.
“Do not fret. All will be well.”
He grunted and shook his head harder. “She hates me. But she
hates herself more.”
“That’s not true. She loves you. That is why she’s in so
much pain. In time, she will remember why she loves you and will forgive you.”
“No. No. Can’t you feel her? She’s shattered.”
“And she will heal.” She pulled his hair when he tried to
argue. “The girl has been dealt quite a shock. Have faith, my friend.”
Faith? The only faith he had was that Ari would hate him
forever. What person in their right mind would ever love…him?
“Do not give in to self-pity, Balellanos. I can feel you
slipping away. I will not allow you to lay about on the floor and believe the
worst. Lucian, take him to our home. I’ll stay with Ari.” She cupped his face between
her hands. Her eyes burned bright with determination until they glowed with
silver light. “I am not saying it will be easy or quick, but Ari will see the
truth of your heart. And hers.”
She had seen the truth and it broke her.
But he bit his tongue. It was useless to argue with
Amaryllis. If tenaciousness had royalty, she’d be the undisputed empress of
all. Any attempt to convince her otherwise was just wasted effort.
He waved away Lucian’s outstretched hand and slowly climbed
to a stand. Using the wall as a crutch, he shuffled toward the waiting elevator
with Lucian trailing behind as a parent would do with a toddler just learning
to walk. As the doors slid shut, he saw Amaryllis slip into the apartment.
“You do know that Amaryllis will not leave Ari’s side. No
matter how much Ari may protest.”
“Ya.” That was what he was counting on, otherwise he
wouldn’t have dared leave Ari vulnerable in her condition.
“Will you fight for her, Bale?”
He turned a confused eye toward his general. “Ari? There is
nothing left to fight for.”
“Then you never appreciated what you had and don’t deserve
her.”
His hand clenched into a fist, ready to strike the bastard
in the face. If this was his way of trying to make him feel better, his
delivery was shit.
“Look, Bale, no one hates you more than you, and until you
stop with the self-flagellation, you will never be able to accept that another
can find you worth loving.” He snorted. “Loving. I should say worth giving a
shit about. Prove to Ari that you are not the monster you painted yourself to
be. Prove you are worth her love. I speak from experience. The sooner you
forgive yourself, the sooner she will forgive you.”
It wasn’t that simple. The blood on his hands would never
wash away.
“Hey.” Lucian laid a hand on his shoulder. “Remember when
Amaryllis whipped us? She said that we were blessed with the gift of today and
the promise of tomorrow. Be thankful for that, Bale. Make tomorrow better than
today. You are a
Llanos
warrior. Handpicked by me, and when I was in
command, the
Llanos
never gave up.”
Lucian’s reasoning was too simple. While the
Llanos
may have not always won, it wasn’t for lack of trying. But how did one begin to
remove the taint of such sins? To pay for the crimes committed on another
planet?
“Believe, Bale. Believe in Ari.”
“I broke her.”
“And you can put her back together, just as she has done
with you. She is a strong woman. Have faith.”
Faith. To Bale faith was as elusive as striking the last
paper match while standing in the deepest, wettest cave and expecting it to
last long enough to guide your way to the light. Faith was for those who had
nothing.
Just like you.
He sighed. Yes, he did have nothing. Well, nothing but love
for a woman who probably rued the day she ever met him. Perhaps he and Ari were
through, but the least he could do was prove that she wasn’t the broken one,
that her love for him made him want to be a better man. The question now was
how?
The idea stuck so fast, he jerked with the impact as the
elevator doors slid open on a hush, revealing the front door of Lucian’s
apartment. With a jaw clenched in determination, he pushed the button for the
ground floor.
“Keep in contact,” Lucian said with a smile. “I’ll update
you if there is any change with Ari.”
He nodded. “Thank you. Brother.”
Lucian slapped him on the back and wished him luck as he ran
out into the night. Transportation was not important, for he knew exactly where
to go and once he arrived, he wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon.
Two miles away he reached his destination and sprinted up
the concrete steps, striding through the door with a decisive swagger. The few
people occupying the lobby backed away with wide eyes and open mouths, allowing
him unfettered passage to the front counter.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked through the safety glass
with a tilt of her head. He noticed one of her hands remained under the
countertop, her finger probably resting on the button of an alarm.
“Tell Captain Marco DeWinter he has a visitor.”
“Is he expecting you?”
His lips twitched. “Oh, he’s expecting me all right.”
* * * * *
When it came to holding perfectly still, Bale was a master.
It was his ability to wait and watch without making the slightest flicker of
movement that made him so good at his previous occupation. But sitting on the
worn-out loveseat in what appeared to be a waiting room of the city’s police
department was driving him to insanity. His skin itched as sweat trickled down
his hairline and his hearts raced. He flicked so many glances at the closed
door, the muscles of his eyes were starting to tire and his jaw ached from
clenching his teeth to keep from fidgeting.
Something was amiss. When he had announced his arrival at
the police station, he anticipated a dozen, if not two, armed officers to
instantly surround him with weapons aimed at his head. To be politely escorted
to a waiting area and offered a cup of coffee had not been a possibility. The
reaction was strange, and strange was bad. Strange meant endless possibilities
and endless was dangerous.
The click of the doorknob turning made his spine straighten.
Captain DeWinter entered the room, looking cool and unruffled. Well, at least
his demeanor appeared unruffled. His blazer and shirt were creased as if he’d
been sleeping in his clothes, but nothing of what he was feeling showed on his
face. Even his emotional signature was steady, revealing more curiosity than
triumph at closing a case.
DeWinter pushed the door shut and turned the lock before
taking a seat in the chair directly facing him. “What are you doing here?”
Odd question. Odd was bad too.
“I am the Claymore you have been searching for and I am
turning myself in.”
“I can see that, Bale… Do you have a last name?”
“My name is Bale.”
“Fine, Bale no last name. Why are you turning yourself in?”
“I must pay for crimes I have committed.”
“Why?”
He bit back a surprised gasp as his head jerked. “What do
you mean, why?”
“I mean why? You’ve been running around town, looking more
than content about doing your own thing. Why turn yourself in now?”
“What does it matter?” Who was the insane one now? The man
was being given a gift and he questioned it?
“I’m curious.”
Then he could damn well stay curious.
With that, the stare down began. Two foes locked in a silent
battle for domination of the situation.
DeWinter was good, he’d give him that. A slow blink now and
again, but otherwise the man didn’t flinch as their gazes locked as if they
were engaged in an arm-wrestling match with both sides pressing flesh to flesh
with all they had and neither giving an inch. However, the captain never spent
two years zipping through the galaxy enclosed in a capsule meant for a man half
his size. He didn’t stand a chance of winning this battle.
At the eight-minute mark DeWinter broke his stare with a
smile. “Gonna make me guess, huh? Hmm… I think… I think I got to your
girlfriend. Ari, right? She’s cute. Smart too. She might not have known about
your alter ego, but when I showed her your photo, I noticed she pieced it
together right away. So she confronted you, threatened to leave if you don’t
put an end to it, and now you’re here trying to make her happy. You must care
for her very much.”
The captain’s observations hit him like poisoned-tipped
arrows. The guessing game was a waste of time. He had come to accept his
punishment, not sit and discuss his motivations.
He rose to a stand and held out his hands. “I am here to pay
for my crimes.”
“Sit down, no name.” DeWinter waved his hand and settled
back in his seat. “Look, believe it or not, I don’t give a shit as to whether
you’re captured or not. So you’ve stopped a few crimes here and there and have
crippled some dumbasses who probably deserved it. I don’t care about them.
You’ll get, what, a year, for obstruction of justice? Community service if you
have no priors? A slap on the wrist for reckless endangerment? Big deal. The
only reason the city’s after you is because you’re making the suits at the top
look bad.”
“What about you? You’ve been tasked to capture me. Don’t you
want to succeed?”
“I did catch you.” He laughed. “That’s why you’re here. I
just didn’t get the chance to arrest you and make the information public.”
“Arrest me now.”
DeWinter shook his head. “You’re not who I want.”
The sudden shift in his tone and emotions from curious to
deadly serious made Bale’s entire being go quiet as he waited for the captain
to continue.
“I was pulled off a case to hunt you down. A case I’d been
working on for three years.” He tilted his head. “Does the name Smithwick ring
a bell? If you’re as close to the Kilsgaards as I think you are, it should.”
He gave a slow nod. Just what was the captain after?
“Tell me what you know.”
“He’s a crime boss. Drugs, human trafficking. Very elusive.”
“And…”
“And what?”
“The Kilsgaard connection…” he led.
“He had Fiona Kilsgaard kidnapped last year.”
“Correct.” DeWinter leaned forward and rested his elbows on
his knees. “When I helped your friend the Chameleon with her release, that was
the closest we came to nailing Smithwick. You call him elusive. I say he’s
slippier than a greased pig at the county fair. I have this hunch that even
after I close the case on you, I won’t be back on the Smithwick case. Right now
my commander is burying it deep in the cold case files, never to be seen
again.”
“Why?”
“Time, money, manpower, ability to make the charges stick,
he’s on the take. Perhaps all of the above. They’re going to let that man walk
and be content with putting out the little fires caused by the sparks of
Smithwick’s operation instead of snuffing out the source.”
“And what does this have to do with me?”
“I’ve seen video of you in action. You move like the
Chameleon. I can’t touch Smithwick, but you can. You can track him down and
finish him once and for all.”
His stomach soured as his nostrils flared. “What exactly are
you asking me to do, Captain?”
“I want him gone. However you make that happen, is up to
you.”
“Whatever you may think of me, I do not kill for sport,” he
spat.
“I hope you don’t kill, period, otherwise we will have
issues. I just want Smithwick somewhere he can’t do any more business.”
He released a slow breath and with it some of his anger. He
should be used to people thinking the worst of him by now. “This case has
become personal to you.”