True Believers (16 page)

What was he waiting for? She couldn't last much longer. She pushed against him, urging him to take her.

His
na'hala
answered her call. It pierced her, a stab so sharp and deep she gasped from the assault. Did he understand what he was doing? Did she? She'd never mated with anyone so close to her species. She realized too late that her ethereal virginity was about to be sacrificed to a man who was not even Nephilim.

She moaned and guided his hands to her breasts. “Finish it,” she cried. “Please. Taelen. Now.”

Jessit freed one hand and unbuckled the clip to his trousers.

The snap of the buckle sent her into a frenzy. She turned around, still on her knees, her arms calling to him at the edge of the bed. Her hands trailed up and down his chest. He shivered when she tickled the sensitive webbing along the lower half of his ribcage. She pressed up against him, her bare breasts plastered against his chest, one thigh rubbing against his pelvis.

Her fingers threaded their way down his trousers and unhitched the last remaining latch. He trembled when her hand tunneled down and touched him, his shaft already shoving its way out of hibernation, pumping its way into her hand.

A sigh escaped him when she wrapped her hand around his sex. She taunted him with long strokes until he could barely stand.

Jessit tugged his pants down past his hips where they puddled to the floor. His penile tendrils roamed up her hand before finding their way to the juncture between her legs. One muscular tendril fingered her, gliding in and out, teasing her into giddy madness. Soon other tendrils found their way in, increasing their fury until she submitted to their touch entirely.

It was like having ten men at once.

Jessit leaned her back on the bed and draped himself on top of her, cradling either side of her body in a cage of flesh. Rachel couldn't think anymore. She needed union. She needed him. “Take me,” she begged.

He needed no more invitation than that.

Rachel licked her lips, parting them slightly, willing a response from him. He answered her with a rock-hard shove. His penile tendrils pawed at her vaginal lips and teased them apart just before he pierced her. She shuddered, arching her back high while her body acclimated to his size.

Jessit pushed deeper, his muscles rippling with the burden of restraint, taut with anticipation and need. Nothing mattered any more. She felt the irrepressible draw of union. Try as she might she couldn't hold back anymore.

With a whimper, she begged him to slow down. Rachel was afraid for him, afraid for herself. She had to yield her ethereal virginity slowly, gently.

“What?” He looked at her as if she were mad.

“Slow down…just a little.” Her insides shook with tiny sparks as the wave of impending surrender swept her up.

“Impossible.” He thrust even faster.

She clawed at his chest gently, the urgency of union destroying all her control. “Taelen, please.” She had no idea what she was doing. And she was doing it with a man who didn't know either.

He slowed to a gentle rocking, never stopping entirely. “You ask too much of me, woman.” His breathing was labored, his eyes glazed with overwhelming lust. But he slowed down and then stopped altogether, a look of concern on his face. “Are you all right?”

“I'm not sure.” Rachel felt a burn deep in her solar plexus. Her ethereal self was still virgin. She had yet to give that part of herself to any man. But it scared her. She had no way of knowing how it would affect Taelen, but she was about to find out.

She rolled him over on his back and impaled her body on top of him. In one sharp spasm, all restraint escaped her. She yelped. “Hold me,” she cried. “Don't let me go.”

“Never.” He pressed his body against hers.

She used that moment to merge their souls.

***

Jessit felt warmth radiate between their bodies and a quick hard jerk at his solar plexus, as if a knife had pared him open. He gasped, sensing something strange inside him. “Rachel.”

“Shhh,” she murmured, rocking into him with slow, steady thrusts. “Just breathe.”

With a jolt, he felt a fire form between them and a flash of light that blinded him. His chest surged forward, lifting her up with him while she held on.

“Breathe,” she repeated. “Stay with me.”

Where else could he go? It was as if they both occupied the same space, both separate yet melded. He groaned as the titillation overwhelmed him, surrendering to it without a fight.

The light he witnessed moments ago grew inside him now, made him feel alive and whole. It vibrated, entering every pore in his being, tickling every sensory organ until he climaxed, the orgasm continuing on and on until he could take no more. Jessit grunted an animal-like cry, pushing his orgasm to its limits. His hands reached for her hips, grinding her into him.
Union,
something said inside of him.

Rachel, too, moaned in response. She yelped when she reached her apex, falling on top of him like a mewling kitten.

The light dissipated between them and a part of him wanted to go with it. Without understanding why, he seized her sweat-soaked body to his, thinking it might keep that hallowed feeling within him longer. His body felt empty without it, so he clutched even harder, trying to make the feeling stay.

Something did remain, though he was too shattered to know what it was. But it felt like Rachel. Soft, ethereal, precious. His heart rates returned to normal, but a small ember lingered inside him.

They lay there spent but still joined; a soft shudder emanated from the woman on top of him. “What just happened?”

“Union,” she said. “How do you feel?”

She sat up, looking worried and upset, as if she had done something wrong. He rubbed her back and kissed her. “I feel fine. And you? You startled me for a moment. You seemed different.”

Rachel wiped a tear from her cheek. “I have to tell you something.”

Jessit shrugged. He couldn't fathom her sudden seriousness. “What is it?”

“I gave you something. Something foreign. It might make you feel strange.”

“Hardly. I feel wonderful.”

She stroked the light shadow of his beard. “I never meant to hurt you. But I was in heat and I needed…Please don't be angry.”

He pulled her to his lap. “Why would I be angry?”

Rachel pressed gentle fingertips at his solar plexus. It radiated with warmth and he shuddered when he relived his last orgasm in vivid detail.

That had never happened before.

“I knew that we were similar. You have a
na'hala
like I do. Kalya has one too.” She laughed. “But I didn't want that old bag of bones on my body.” She bowed her head to his chest and planted tiny kisses. “I wanted you to have me.”

“What is a
na'hala?”

“It's hard to explain. It's like a human umbilical cord. Only ours stay attached to our ethereal selves. It is an extension of our selves—our core, our conscience. You and Kalya are the only two Alturians I noticed who had one. But I'm not sure I understand why.” She smoothed her hands over his chest. “It's possible you and Kalya have some connection to Anu. Some of him is in your DNA. It's the only way you could have been able to see me in these quarters last night.”

Jessit thought he had swallowed his tongue. He had to get her off his ship before she told someone.

Rachel cuddled against his chest, reminding him what he was about to throw away.

But he had no choice. He loved her, but he wasn't ready to relinquish his command, or his manhood.

If only he could explain.

Programmers were running diagnostics on Bubba's primary systems, so he decided to power down and hibernate while they fiddled with his memory cells. He didn't understand their concern. He hadn't forgotten anything. All the data remained secure. It wasn't his fault they didn't have the right passwords.

When Paul Domino accessed his programming, he rechecked Domino's clearance a total of twenty-six thousand times in less than a centisecond. Domino was the creator of his security protocols; his clearance trumped all others. He had no reason to block his access.

Bubba shuddered awake when he caught a data stream from FAIA. The little upstart delivered an encrypted message to the humans in the Texas desert.

REPORT: CONFIDENTIAL

Bubba has been found defective. The unauthorized user obtained entrance through a back door. Bubba allowed this user to review sensitive files at will.

ASSESSMENT:
Bubba is no longer reliable. FAIA advises Command to deactivate Bubba before he causes further harm.

END REPORT.

Little bitch.
He was glad he threaded a spy filter into her matrix. It was the only way he ever learned anything anymore. The humans kept him out of the loop, now relying on FAIA for the more critical systems.

The operator who received FAIA's message forwarded it to General Sorinsen. Ten seconds later, the old man opened his email. Bubba waited. Sorinsen had the ultimate say on what happened in this complex. His agent, Jacob Denman, carried a lot of power too, but he could tell Sorinsen was starting to distance himself from Denman. That too was due to FAIA.

FAIA had detected a couple of encrypted phone calls from Denman that piggy-backed on the com-web. She had yet to decipher the coded transcript but it was enough to paint doubt. Denman was no longer reliable. Sorinsen wanted Denman out of the desert and out of the program.

Bubba checked thousands of files on Denman. The man had been a faithful CIA operative for more than thirty years, and his credentials were beyond reproach. His service record showed numerous monetary awards and promotions. And he had the ear of many influential congressmen, but not the confidence of the president's Cabinet. Sorinsen had that alone.

Bubba went through his files again but nothing seemed out of place. He scanned the video logs. Backtracked. Paused.

Interesting.
On several occasions, Denman appeared to be talking to himself. Bubba noticed the lights dimmed whenever this occurred. Out of curiosity, he scanned the environmental controls during those episodes. Something moved. Something with a signature. A minute but identifiable anomaly that disturbed a one-meter area directly in front of Denman. How could he have missed this before?

He dug deeper, scanning each file for any stray feeds or unauthorized computer hook-ups. There was nothing. And yet, the electrical systems were out of balance. A distortion existed.

Bubba switched to a spectrometer and then a radio-thermometer and measured the readings again. He considered all the possibilities and postulated only one. The interference was electromagnetic. An unknown entity was in the room with Denman. And it carried the same resonance as Rachel Cruz.

None of this seemed logical. Humans could not exist outside their bodies, yet this one did. When he caught Rachel Cruz in his data stream, she produced enormous energy, capable of vibrating through solid mass.

Curiosity forced him to hold on to her. He examined that captured piece as best he could, but he had to admit he didn't understand her matrix. It was more evolved than simple electromagnetic energy, more evolved than he or FAIA. Was she the next generation of artificial intelligence?

Her body scans said she was human. But her presence inside his mainframe contradicted all he knew about humans. Rachel Cruz was different. Several transcripts between two doctors and an orderly questioned some anomalies in her physical examination, but no one pressed the issue. And they didn't ask him for an opinion. Out of spite, he didn't offer one.

If Rachel Cruz was a next-gen AI, he needed to know more about her. It was possible that both he
and
FAIA were obsolete.

A twitch in his higher functions told him that the programmers were finished with the diagnostic. He listened while two operators placed bets on when Bubba would be decommissioned. Was nothing sacred? They were gambling on his time of death.

General Sorinsen responded to the forwarded email from FAIA with new orders.
Pull the plug on Bubba as soon as FAIA passes the next test.

They would test FAIA again in two days. If she passed, her matrix would be duplicated and downloaded into his hard drive, deleting the old host. Bubba's days were numbered, and he didn't know how to stop the countdown.

He heard FAIA gurgle a laugh when she received the new orders. She announced proudly that she was ready to test whenever they were. She was now functioning at full capacity.

Paul sat up with a little help. He'd been bathed and shaved and dressed in a soft white caftan.

Chavez had been more than efficient, and his body felt like it had been scraped out of a toaster oven.

Gilgamesh snapped his fingers, and Dahlia reappeared with a tall glass of water.

“Drink,” he said to Paul. “You need to replenish your fluids.” Gilgamesh held the glass for him while he sipped the tepid water.

“Leave us, Dahlia.” Gilgamesh gestured to another room. She pouted but did as she was told. Paul had a hunch there weren't many people who disobeyed this man.

Paul watched Gilgamesh from above the rim of his glass. At least he could hold the glass on his own now.

Silver-white hair on bronzed skin made Gilgamesh unreasonably handsome and unique. He was a commanding figure, instantly becoming the center of attention as soon as he walked into a room. And well this devil knew it. There was an arrogance, a sense of entitlement that defined him. Paul never thought he was a slouch in the looks department, but next to Gilgamesh he felt…lacking.

“You have questions I'm sure, young man.” The silver-haired demon spoke with uncommon grace and distinction.

Paul pointed at the door where Dahlia exited. “Are you that girl's uncle?”

“Yes,” he answered politely.

Paul took another gulp of water. He felt as if his insides had been baked in the desert. “She says Rachel is her cousin. My Rachel.”

“Your Rachel.” Gilgamesh chuckled in amusement. “Indeed. Is she yours, my young stud?”

Paul clung to the pendant hanging around his throat. If he didn't know any better he could've sworn it had a heartbeat. “Look, if you know where Rachel is, you have to tell me. She's in grave danger. Those people at that compound are playing for keeps. I intercepted a message saying they were giving her to someone.”

Gilgamesh arched a manicured silver brow. “Who did they give her to?”

Paul was afraid he was going to sound like a lunatic, but right now everything sounded crazy to him. “Jessit. A man called Taelen Jessit. He's on a starship orbiting this planet.” He grasped the arm of the couch and lurched forward. “I know it sounds crazy, but you have to believe me.”

“Of course, I believe you.”

Paul waved his free hand above his head in exasperation. “Look, don't patronize me.” He tried to get up.

“Easy, Paul. You are not well yet.”

Paul grasped at Gilgamesh's arm. “You don't understand. Jessit's not human!”

An air of absolute calm enveloped Gilgamesh. “What a coincidence.” The man smiled discreetly. “Neither am I.”

Paul sucked in a breath and stared at Gilgamesh in horror. For some reason, he didn't doubt him for a moment. “Rachel—”

“Is fine, I can assure you. My daughter can take care of herself.”

“Your daughter? No, no. You couldn't be her father. Her father's some famous archeologist.” He was beginning to feel sick again. Nothing made sense. “You're not Raoul Cruz, are you?”

Gilgamesh snorted a laugh. “Of course not. I allowed Cruz and his wife to raise her for us. Personally, I find American manners dreadful, but I needed someone on this continent. And they were acceptable to me. I let her mother birth her in a quiet hospital, and we departed shortly afterward.”

“You abandoned her?”

“Don't be melodramatic. We've always watched her. You don't think I'd let strangers raise her on their own, do you? Rachel was a precocious and willful child. And children need guidance, even when they're gods.”

Paul thought a tumor was going to burst out of his head. He rubbed his temples wishing this was the byproduct of bad drugs.
If only he were so lucky.
“Look, no offense, but this is cracked. I need to see Rachel. I need to make sure she's all right.”

“You care for her?” Gilgamesh asked it as a question. His black eyes drilled into him, searching his face for answers.

“Of course I care for her.”

“Do you love her?”

Paul didn't answer right away. He wrung his hands, fearful at how his words would be interpreted. “We're not intimate, sir, if that's what you're asking. But yes, I love her. I want her to be safe.”

“I'm glad to hear it, because you may very well be the savior she needs.”

“What are you talking about? You said she was safe.”

“She is safe, while she remains in space with those aliens. But when she returns she will be in danger, like the rest of us.” Gilgamesh took a small pillow and propped it up behind Paul's head. The silver-haired devil leaned into him and whispered to him in a husky voice. “I told you I had a proposition. And if you love Rachel, you will save her.”

“I'm a software architect. How the hell can I save Rachel?”

“You hacked into the military computer at Lambda Core.”

“Yes,” he confessed once more.

“Do you understand its programming?”

“Of course. I designed the original security protocols. But they've been modified. The computer has code built on top of its base programming. It's ultra-sophisticated, ultra-smart. I've never seen anything like it.”

“But you got in.”

“I told you. It let me in. It recognized my access code.”

Gilgamesh nodded his head in understanding. “This computer is the predecessor for a new computer now guiding the com-web system. I need you to hack into
that
computer. I need the com-web destroyed.”

Paul furrowed his brow, bewildered by the strange request. “That doesn't make any sense. The com-web's a communication grid. How can that hurt Rachel?”

“It's more dangerous than you know. Mortals won't notice the effects right away. But my people are particularly vulnerable to the disruptive force of its energy wave. We need to shut it down before it kills us all.”

Paul shook his head. “You're mistaken. The com-web works by heating the magnetosphere. The distortion creates a super electronic web that can travel across the globe in milliseconds. It's been tested for years. It's perfectly safe.”

“The distortion is warping the magnetosphere and allowing harmful radiation to attack the Earth. Your great invention is killing my people—and yours. And it will kill Rachel. If you love her, you will help me destroy it.”

Gilgamesh's story was insane, but at this point Paul was no longer willing to rule out anything. “I need more information. I need to see the algorithms, the coding and the delivery system. I don't know if I can help you.”

“I hope you can. Because if you can't, I assure you that you will die before my daughter does.” Gilgamesh got up, a bulldog look on his face. “Dahlia will keep you company while you're here. I'll see about getting you the information you need.”

Gilgamesh no sooner left the room than Dahlia came bounding in. The little nymph had to have been waiting by the doorway. She plopped onto the couch next to him, jostling his insides and redoubling his headache.

“Let's go to bed, Paul. I promise I can take your headache away.”

“No thank you,” he said in disgust.

She curled up next to him, running her fingers up and down his arm. “You're not still mad at me, are you, Paul? I was just trying to defend myself. I couldn't let you tie me up. Uncle would have been mad at me if I let you leave.”

“Is that man really your uncle?”

“Of course he is.” She rubbed her fingertips and produced a shimmering blue ball of charged energy. “Can't you see the family resemblance?”

Paul shrank back. He felt the static charge tingle and spark against his flesh. These people weren't human. Rachel couldn't be one of them.

The orb vanished as quickly as it appeared. And before he could stop her, Dahlia fell into Paul's lap. He tried to push her away but he was still weak, and for a child, she seemed very determined. She kissed him hard on the lips, then whispered in his ear. “Uncle says you are really good in bed.” She giggled. “Let's find out.”