pygmalion

By DocPaul

Chapter Twenty-six: I don’t need to walk around in circles…

Circles

~~Soul Coughing~~

Day Thirty-eight: Thursday, 12:03 am

“Whaddya doin?” Zan asked as Rath grabbed his jacket to leave.

Rath shrugged. None of his fucking business. This place was closing in on him. “I’m gonna go take a walk.”

Zan purposely put himself between Rath and the exit. “Naw. I don’t think so. Ya wanna play, then play with the dolls. No upside time.”

Rath pushed Zan aggressively, as both men stood back from each other breathing hard, their hands clenching. Lonnie walked into the room catching the tail-end of the standoff. “Oh, please! Tell me that one of ya is gonna fry the other!”

They looked over to see Lonnie standing in the door as a figure emerged out of the shadows beside her. Nicolas.

“Nice place.” Nicolas looked around. “A little on the stinky side. Ever think of airing the place out?”

Rath and Zan were suddenly united together against a common foe. Nicholas. A Skin. One of Kivar’s flunkies. “Whasssup, Lon? Bringing him here?”

“She had little choice. I had a message for the…King.” Nicolas sneered at Zan. “Guess he really means you. The King wannabe.”

Rath smirked, and standing back, he let Zan take care of the pipsqueak. “What makes you think I’m willin’ to hear anything from your keeper? I thought he made it clear, crystal, that he had no use for us.”

Nicolas walked around the room, his diminutive size was surprisingly comfortable in the low ceiling spaces. Being a young boy was hardly his choice, and after over so many years in this husk, he was finding it hard to keep his emotions under control. Emotions. A strange concept. All the raging and uncertainties of a thirteen year old were running in his veins. He woke up that morning with a zit on his face and Lonnie blowing him. It was a strange combination. Too young. Too old. All trapped inside this husk.

Vilandra. He smirked at the woman across the room. A woman who was a pale imitation of what she once was. This woman knew her weaknesses and her strengths, and used them to her advantage. She used her human body to get her where she wanted to go. Kivar. She wanted Kivar. Unfortunately for her, Kivar did not want her. He wanted the real Vilandra. The true reincarnate. Nicolas had been watching Isabel. He wanted her too.

Vilandra had been one of the most beautiful of women on Antar. In human equivalence she was a Helen of Troy. But human beauty and Antarian beauty were two different things. On Antar mental attributes defined beauty, rather then physical attributes. Vilandra had a will of iron. Control. Strength. There was a metal to her backbone that held her on an unfaltering course, taking her to her own desires. Ambition and might were the most sought-after and revered of qualities. Vilandra had more than most. It was her ambition and desire for the throne that led to her demise. But in her brilliance, she had come closer than any one person to taking everything. It was her greed in believing that she could control her brother Zan and her lover Kivar at the same time that did her in. She had overstepped her bounds and it cost her everything. Including her life.

Here she was in this life playing the same games. She had spent over ten years as Rath’s lover to ensure his loyalty, and in the last three, she had become her brother’s lover as well. Now she was using Nicolas’s young hormonal body to her advantage to regain her position with Kivar. For a Dupe, this version understood better than the other three just what was exactly at stake. The cost. Unfortunately what she didn’t or couldn’t conceive of, was that she was being equally played by all three men. Her own conceit made that possibility something beyond her ability to recognize.

“Where is your Queen, Your Not-so-Majesty?”

“Around.” Zan didn’t mention that Ava had been missing for over a day. He would deal with her later. “Sooooo.....What does your keeper want, Monkey Boy?”

Nicolas smiled. Zan, always the same in any form. Conceited. Self-absorbed. He only cared about his own self-involved interests. It was no wonder that he had fallen victim to internal betrayal and deceit. In his last life he had been so busy making sure that all those under his reign followed his orders completely, that he weakened the very bonds that would have saved his throne and his life. He had alienated his brother, the Commander, by demanding he marry Vilandra, and he pushed Vilandra into opening the city to Kivar’s armies in retaliation. It was the loss of both of them that led to his downfall.

This Zan was facing the same dissension in his ranks. They stood broken in unity and unwilling to fight together. Rath stared at Nicolas, the two sharing a common knowledge. Zan was a dud. He was no King.

“Kivar will allow you to come home. Under special conditions.”

Lonnie glanced at her brothers. Home. Antar. Away from this planet that barely offered them a refuge in all the years they had resided upon it.

“We’re listening,” Zan said. “What conditions?”

“The Granilith. Kivar wants the Granilith back. If you find it and bring it back to Antar, he will allow you to live there unhindered. All your past sins will be pardoned.”

Rath shook his head. “What makes ya think that we’d believe anything he promises?”

Nicolas looked at the punked-out man and huffed. “Do I care if you believe? No. I make the offer. Nothing else. Frankly, I’d rather you didn’t take it. Nothing would please me more than to think of you here on Earth slowly choking to death on this atmosphere.”

Rath’s eyes narrowed. Yes, he remembered Nicolas, Kivar’s once-great general, the person who had killed him in his last life. Rath kept his mouth closed. He wasn’t willing to give away his most private thoughts. This destiny would end. For all of them. It wouldn’t and couldn’t be allowed to go on. Rath held all the spite and anger of a man cheated by circumstance in his soul. In his rage at the world, he was willing to watch other worlds burn in his wake.

“The Granilith belongs on Earth,” said Zan. “It has to be here in order to be found in the past.”

Nicolas laughed. Imbeciles. “No. The Granilith has to be gone. Far from Earth. If it is here in the hand of the Royals, how will the need arise to create it in the first place? The history and lore are sketchy at best, but when the Granilith was created, it was out of need. If this Granilith remains on the planet it will destroy the timeline.”

Lonnie sat on the edge of the sofa. “If it has to leave, then how do you know that it would leave now? That we took it?”

Nicolas looked at her. “How do you know you did not?” The young man headed towards the door. He was sick of the smell of the place, and he tended to appreciate more intelligent company, namely children his own age. “Think it over. Send the slut to tell me your answer. I really don’t care. All Kivar is concerned with is retrieving his stolen property and the continued success of the Royals, or as long as it takes for them to breed and produce the children that must be. Once that future is determined, he could care less, as could I.”

“What of our protector?”

Nicolas paused. “Well, that is a totally different deal all together. A problem for you. Your Protector has cut his own deal with Kivar. He is promising the Granilith and the rightful heir to Antar. The true King’s son.” Nicolas looked back at the three. “I guess you can say that if he wins, he gets the Granilith and the King’s son first, and you all can find yourself a nice sewer to live in for the rest of your lives because Antar will have slipped from your grasp.”

Lonnie looked at Nicolas in shock, “And what about the Royals? Kivar doesn’t want them? None of them?”

Nicolas laughed cruelly in her face. “He wants Vilandra. Only her. The heir, Vilandra and the Granilith. Nothing else. The Commander, his mate, and their children are to be left alone to follow the destiny awaiting them. The hell with the rest. Once the King’s son is born, the need for the Queen ends and the King has played out his role in producing an heir. Then all that is left is to return Vilandra home.”

“Wait!” Lonnie’s face screwed up into an angry scowl. “She ain’t alien enough! She can’t live on Antar! I can.”

Nicolas moved back to Lonnie. “Get a clue, bitch. You are not the real deal. She is. Kivar wants his Vilandra back, not a poor replacement, a sewer whore all used and diseased.”

Lonnie’s eyes narrowed in anger and she moved to take out the vile Skin. Nicolas laughed and knocked her back against the filthy wall with his own power. Zan straightened her in his arms.

“Pathetic. You used to be more of a challenge. When you were Vilandra, I could hardly subdue you long enough to rape you. Now you are a dog panting at the chance to spread them. Times change, but the real Princess will be more of a match for me.” Looking at the two of them, Zan and Lonnie, Nicolas sneered to himself. They had no purpose. The Commander was needed for his genetics, and for that reason the one they called Rath was important. He should be able to control the Granilith like the Commander could. Making a slight gesture to Rath, Nicolas left.

The three stood in silence. Lonnie shook her head in frustration. Bastard. She would see him dead! Vilandra, huh? So Kivar wanted the real Vilandra? Fine. That would be who he would get. Time to take over the Princess’s life.

Zan shook with rage. He had nothing to trade with! Ignoring the other two as he paced the room, he never noticed Rath slipping out into the night. They had convinced Rath to stay low for the next few days, at least until the next week, because Roswell was a hotbed of police activity and he was being actively hunted. His spree of raping and murdering was making things uncomfortable. When he did this in New York, it hardly registered, but Roswell was too small for that.

Lonnie looked at her brother. “Whatcha thinkin?”

“I need an in. A way to deal.” Zan threw himself down on the sofa. “Who knew that puss sucking troll still had his old ways inside! He was a bastard in our last lives too.” Zan looked at his sister and smiled slightly to himself. On Antar, he had traded Vilandra to Nicolas for information about Kivar. That was one thing he remembered. He had made it possible for Nicolas to trap and rape her, and that was what brought Vilandra home and back into the city. That in itself had proved fatal. Once Vilandra was home, he arranged her betrothal to Rath against both of their wishes, and in the process, forced her to give up Kivar forever.

He had used Nicolas to make her come her home, so devastated was she by Nicolas’ rape, thus betraying her great love of Kivar. But Zan miscalculated just how devastated she was. She had every intention of telling Kivar of Nicolas’ actions and thereby seeing Nicolas dead. When Zan proposed the marriage with Rath, thus ending whatever hope she had of reuniting with Kivar, Vilandra revolted and opened the city to Kivar and his armies. That was end of their world as they knew it.

He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Lonnie had her uses, but in the end she had betrayed him and their people. Yes, that was in their past lives, but she would do it again. Kivar. For Vilandra, it was always Kivar. That and the throne. Pity. He was enjoying using her sexually, but his plans didn’t include her. They involved only the rightful heir, and his replacing the one they called Max.

~~~

“Waddaya want?”

Nicolas came calmly out of the shadows when Rath called to him. Good. After all, Rath was a duplicate of the Commander, and it appeared he still had most, if not all of the instincts in him that the Commander once had. Rath had sensed him.

“The Commander is impressive. I’ve been watching him for a while. Him and his mate, this Maria.” Nicolas noted the clenching of Rath’s jaw at the mention of Maria. “You see it too. You feel it don’t you?”

“Whatcha talkin about?” Rath feigned ignorance. After all, the wind ignores the bamboo, because to the wind, the bamboo is nothing that can’t be breeched. The bamboo is deceptively strong and resistant to the forces of the wind, but the wind is not aware of any of it.

“We all sensed it from the moment we saw her. It is hard to describe something that has no name. In her presence there is this feeling of calmness and clear thought. She is like a tuner that removes static and white noise from the very air around her. I talked to her once, you know. A few months back. I joined a class field trip to the University’s museum. She was giving a tour. I made sure to stand next to her, to ask questions. She was…” Nicolas paused. There was no way to describe what Maria was. He wanted to hold her hand. To have her lead him. Keep him. Make him her son. Her…anything. “She was beyond my experience. I just knew that she could help me feel better in this crappy husk in which I live, that she could help me harness the power of my body into a purer form.”

The crystal clear prism. They saw it. All of them. All those with powers. It was their energy matrix seeking an outlet of unquestionable control. There had to be others like Maria on the planet, much in the way that soldiers and guardians were born, the natural mates to these people. The mates that stood with soldiers at their side, quiet and resilient, lending them a focus and strength.

“Ya want to tell me whaddya want, or do I leave?”

Nicolas looked at Rath and smiled a smile of pure joy. “How hard it must be to see him, the Commander, given the very control you need in order to survive on this planet. How hard must be your life, to be a soldier born to conquer in a time that has no epic battles, no wars to fight. He takes in his hand all the power of his body, and he channels and controls it. He is learning, maybe yet unaware, but all of us are feeling it.” Nicolas studied his fingers and smiled to himself. He could sense the rage in the man coming off in waves. “I can end your suffering. I know how.”

Rath’s eyes narrowed. What was the short sheet offering? “Why me? Why not the others, too?”

“They mean nothing. Junk DNA. You, luckily, are unique in that your hybrid DNA makes you as valuable as the Commander. More so because you know us. You can live on Antar comfortably.” Nicolas put his hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet. “You can return home. To a world of war where you will be the closest thing to a God. The Commander was unique on our world. His mixed genetics of two worlds made him powerful, a keeper of different energies in multiple forms.”

“You want me to fight in your war, on your side?” Rath was many things, but he wasn’t much of a fool. His old worlds were warlike in nature. Conquering and the need to oppress were intricate parts of the mental attributes of all their inhabitants. It was the gift they received from the humans, a warlike nature, the desire to explore, conquer and oppress those weaker. That and the inherent powers which grew from the advancement of the human brain.

“It is the Granilith. It hones to the genetics of the keys. The Commander and his mate’s genetics are a part of that. We didn’t know. How could we? For over fifty years the Granilith remained on Antar, safe, within our control. The Skins and the Protectors came to this world to safeguard the Royals, to make sure they weren’t exposed or lost before they could fulfill this final destiny here on Earth.”

Nicolas rued the day that the Granilith was lost. One moment it was on Antar, a weapon of power, force, and control, then in a second of glimmering light, it activated and the entire artifact was lost. It had transported itself across time and space in a blink of an eye to where the Commander was. The moment he emerged from his incubation pod and breathed the air of Earth, the Granilith homed to his body and transported to Earth, to some location unknown to the Skins on Earth, unknown to the Protectors of the Royals and their duplicates, and unknown to Kivar on Antar.

They knew that the Granilith was on Earth because the very same energy signature that had first guided their ancestors to that once-evolving planet was again activated. The problem was that the Granilith was now on a low frequency, almost a hum. Hibernating. Waiting. For what, no one knew. It would take the activation of the machine for them to be able to pinpoint its location exactly. They knew it was on the continental United States, but the low signal was so obscure it could be anywhere around the Commander for up to a thousand miles in each direction.

The Commander and his mate would lead them to it. They were the only ones who could possibly do the job. Either that or it would take the activation of the Granilith to its full power to narrow the signature generation for them to trace it. Rath. He was the same as the Commander. He should not only be able to find the Granilith, but once he found it, his genetics should be able to activate it and transport it back to Antar. And if Rath was on Antar, the Granilith would stay there.

“You need me on Antar to keep the Granilith from transporting back to Earth to search for him?”

Nicolas looked at the man in surprise. He wasn’t as stupid as he appeared! “Yes. It makes you important in a way that your other compatriots can never be. The King had only one purpose. He and his Queen needed to produce an heir to place on the throne; one that Kivar can control. An heir that will help to unify the warring factions and settle the unrest that has existed since Kivar took control. The Loyalists have remained strong and are a nuisance. The Commander’s supporters are equally troublesome in their push to retrieve the Commander, the Granilith, and place him upon the throne. All three factions, Kivar’s, the Loyalists, and the Commander’s, have not only torn Antar apart, but all the neighboring worlds too. The alliance between the five planets has all but dissolved, and all of them seek to take back the Granilith for themselves. The other worlds wish to use it to remove Kivar, destroy his reign, and recapture their freedom.”

“I am of two worlds.” Rath frowned. And one here. He didn’t mention Earth. It had never given him anything. Only pain.

“You are.” Nicolas closed his eyes trying to find a way to appeal to the man’s vanity and pride. “You, my Prince, are destined to be the King of two worlds. Antar and the world of your mother. They wait for your return. Antar will remain Kivar’s, but your other homeworld is yours to rule as you please.”

“I’ll think about it.” Rath watched as Nicolas nodded and then walked away. Celzia. His home planet, other than Antar.

They wanted him for his hybrid blood. Years ago the Skins who supported his rule on the throne had found him in New York. They drew his blood and tested it, unbeknownst to the other three Dupes. Back then he had actually believed he was the true Commander, the Royal. But the genetics were wrong. Too much alien essence. Not enough human. He couldn’t control the Granilith, not like his Dupe could. Yes, he could take it home, but once on Antar the Granilith would transport itself back to Earth again, searching for the true Commander. By then it would be too late. They would have already let him come home. How was he to know that his genetics weren’t a perfect match for those in the Granilith? He couldn’t, and by the time Kivar figured it out, it would be too late.

First though, he had to go retrieve what was rightfully his. His mate. His focus. His Maria. Fuck destiny! He would make his own.

~~~

Michael frowned into his coffee cup. Six cups and he was still falling asleep. All the late night clubbing was starting to wear thin. He hadn’t slept with Maria for almost two nights. The short time between three and six in the morning hardly counted. He had slept in the day before, but this morning they had to be back at the Department bright and early.

Kyle had taken one look at his overloaded desk where the files reached upward to the ceiling, and he just plopped down and threatened to go to sleep right there. Sean was worse. He couldn’t get near that pigsty called a desk, and so he opted for a conference room table to take his nap.

The early morning departmental meeting wasn’t worth attending, since more than half of those present were fighting tiredness and sleep. He chuckled when Courtney almost fell over on Hanson, and he gently pushed her up to have her fall over again. Finally Hanson gave up and let her lean against him as he paid attention to the Captain. The groups covering the clubs were split into three, in order to rotate them on and off through the weekend and the weekdays. A few units from Albuquerque and Las Cruces were sent to firm up the teams.

Their team was off that weekend, and Maria had asked him to take her away while the construction teams were removing the wall. Max made it clear he was out of town and wouldn’t be available until late on Sunday.

“So I can stay in the loft, right?”

Michael rolled his eyes when Sean suddenly came up behind him. “No.”

“Michael…”

“No. I told you, the construction crews will be tearing down and building things. It is going to be loud and messy. And remember Mr. Boo? You want to room with him again? What’s wrong with Amy and Jim’s?”

“No. Seriously. I can stay at the loft, right?”

“Sean…” Michael rubbed his face. Idiot. Sean had to understand English. Michael was talking in English. He was sure he was talking in English. “Read my lips. No. No! The loft is off limits this weekend. Stay with Julia.”

“Yeah, the Boo is a definite drawback, but I can’t stay with Julia. I mean I might, but I don’t want to just move in until she asks me.” Sean put his hands on his hips. “Things are going great right now. Low stress. We’re talking, and she’s telling me stuff about her work again. This undercover thing is breaking into my ‘alone with Julia time’, and I can’t just show up on her doorstep at three in the morning.”

Michael shook his head and went to get some more coffee. He stepped over Max who was sleeping under his desk with his feet hanging out. An early morning meeting after an all night stakeout was insane, especially after two nights or more. At least they were getting Friday to Sunday off, so that only left tonight to get through.

“Get a home, Sean. You’ve got the money. Reach into your penny-pinching soul and pay out for some place to sleep, and I don’t mean a rat trap that’s going to be blown up when the meth lab next door goes. A real apartment.”

“I can’t.” Sean grabbed the pot and refilled his cup. Good, still a small amount left. The next person would have to fix the next pot. “It’s not the money, I swear. It’s Julia. If I get another place it would be like saying I’ve given up on us, and moving on. Settling in without her.”

Michael pushed the coffee pot in Sean’s hands. “Last one on the pot. You know the rules!”

“Damn, Michael. There’s still some coffee left.”

Michael shook his head. “A swallow doesn’t constitute ‘some’, and if I come back in here for more coffee and this is all there is….I will find you and beat the crap out of you.”

“There! Incentive!” Sean started to leave, but seeing the look in Michael’s eyes, he picked up the damn pot. “You know you were more likeable when you were tired and sleeping all the time.”

“I wasn’t sleeping, Sean. I was definitely not sleeping.” Michael watched as Sean cleaned the pot and went to the watercooler to get more water. “This Julia thing is tricky. I’m thinking that you should rent a place at the local Y. Tell her about it. Tell her how much you hate the flea trap, and let her baby you.” Michael frowned at the bottle of water. It was low. Real low.

“That might work. Okay, that’s finally some advice I can use.” Sean smiled back at Michael. “I do have to admit that you were right about the sex thing. It is pretty frickin’ intense. We see each other, start to go out, end up in bed.” Sean watched at the pot slowly filled. They were going to have to tip the damn water cooler to get enough. Then he would be forced to put in the new water bottle. This was all Michael’s fault. “Now look! I have to change the damn thing. Come help me tip the thing so I can get enough water for the coffee.” Sean put the coffee carafe on the counter.

Michael stared at the empty water bottles around the cooler. He frowned in thought and as Sean went to tip the machine, he suddenly reached out and pulled Sean backwards. Sean, losing his balance, stepped back hard into Michael and they both crashed into a table in the break room.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sean untangled himself from Michael who was rudely up on his feet and pushing Sean to the side.

“Call bomb squad!”

“What?”

Michael looked up at Sean as he crouched down beside the cooler. “Sean…now!”

Michael carefully examined the watercooler. It was plugged into the wall to help refrigerate the water. The plug-in didn’t look unusual, but it was adding electricity to a possible detonator. Michael sat back and contemplated the empty water bottles and the one unopened one.

“Michael, what do you have?”

“Simon, what are you doing here? I told Sean to call bomb squad.”

“They’re coming. I was nearer.”

“Gussie is going to have a fit if you mess in his waters.”

“Gus is fag. Harvey will protect me.”

“The hell I will.” Michael breathed easier when the bomb squad team walked in. Moving back, he let them look at the cooler unit. It took a few moments before Gussie sat back on his haunches with Harvey at his side.

“Clear the floor! Now. Harvey, you’ll be wanting to see this, just don’t jostle the jug of water.”

Michael looked through the window of the break room at the Major Crime’s bullpen. It was being cleared as Simon and Jim talked with Max. The three men, followed closely by Sean and Kyle, came to join the team.

“Gentlemen, I really think you should vacate the area.” Gussie said over his shoulder. “This is one major-packing load. Have downstairs coordinate the lower floors’ evacuation too. If we trip this it’s going to clear this floor and spread downward.

Michael went to join Max and the others, leaving the bomb squad to take care of business. It was almost two hours on the streets across from the PD before an ‘all clear’ was sounded. The area was lousy with reporters and live coverage of the event.

“Guerin! Detective Guerin! Can you make a comment on today’s events? Rumor is that you discovered the bomb.”

“No.” Michael walked on, ignoring the cameras.

“Guerin…”

“No.”

The reporter gave up and targeted Max who was walking at Michael’s side. “Evans, perhaps you would like to comment?”

“No.”

“Would you say that…”

“No comment.”

The reporters searched frantically for an eye witness account. DeLuca and Valenti. “DeLuca! Detective DeLuca, would you care to comment? What can you tell us?”

“Hey, Murph. How’s it going? That little infection thing finally clear up? The antibiotics working for ya?”

“Whaaat?” Murphy looked at his camera man shaking his head frantically.

“I hear that you still need to use condoms, even in mano-mano relationships. Let this be a lesson to you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” the reporter said indignantly as he heard Max and Michael chuckle. “I don’t have no damn infection! Cut the crap, and answer the question, Sean.”

“What question?” Sean looked at his partner in confusion. “Did you hear a question, Sweatpea?”

“Nope,” Kyle answered, with a large smile on his face. Murphy gave up as the Detectives walked back into the PD.

They shared an elevator with other people returning to their work. Max glanced over at Sean in amusement. “You always had a way with the press.”

Sean smiled in his usual cheesy manner. “It’s that deadly DeLuca charm!” The group snickered as they went to find the bomb squad and see their bomb.

“How did you know, Guerin?”

Michael shrugged as he looked at the pieces of the bomb that Gussie had disassembled. “A feeling. Mostly it was the empty water bottles.”

Jim looked at the empties and frowned. “Empty water bottles?”

Michael nodded and gestured to Hanson. “Yesterday, Hanson almost mauled the water delivery man and I watched him help the man install a new bottle. This morning I noticed the empty water bottles. We never use that much water at once.”

“Why did he leave them? He would deliver the new ones and take away the empties,” said Max softly.

“Exactly.” Michael’s hands moved over the components. “How did this work?”

“You were right. Electricity. It originally used the water as a connector, to complete the circuit. This is an elegant bomb, as is everything this man does. He is a very interesting character. A ‘Jack of All Trades’ type. This was designed to explode the moment the circuit was cut. So anything like unplugging the cooler, a power outage, the water running out, or when you took off the old bottle and put in a new would’ve triggered it.” Sean looked at Michael. Damn. The man had saved his life. Again. “This was packed with enough plastique to take out the entire floor, push out the windows, and collapse the floor onto itself. It may not have killed everyone, but it damn well would’ve caused some major damage and injuries.”

“What can you do for us, Gussie?” Jim asked quietly.

“I’ll run as many components as possible. Have Parker’s people start chasing numbers. Best I can do is narrow the field on where he’s getting his materials. Maybe his supplier.”

Jim was quiet, as were his men, as the bomb squad took away what was left of a bomb that would have cost all of them their lives, or at least a few limbs. “This isn’t good. Same bomber. Different targets.”

Michael scratched his brow. “You could still be the target, Cap.”

Jim shook his head and walked around the room. “I was never the target. Not the primary one. I was the end, never the justified means. Everything I value is being targeted. The first bomb was set to take me out of the picture without killing me. Thank god!” Jim still woke up in cold sweats thinking it could’ve cost him Amy otherwise. “He targeted Maria and her lofts. My daughter! My grandchildren.”

“The PD fits the profile, Cap.” Max pointed out.

Jim shook his head. “No. This wasn’t aimed at me. Not this time. It was aimed at the Department. Same bomber, different purpose.”

“I have to agree,” Michael said. “It was built for maximum destruction of Major Crimes.” He sat back, his eyes closing as his brain tried to access all the information. “The DA’s offices are a problem too. They don’t fit the profile. The bomber is targeting the DA.”

Sean interrupted Michael. “No. He’s targeting Julia. The DA is just a bonus.”

The two men faced each other. “You can’t be sure of that, Sean.”

“There was a bomb in her car and at her office. The car makes it personal to her.”

Max nodded at Hanson as the man passed him another cup of coffee. “Julia doesn’t fit the profile either. She knows Cap, but isn’t what I would call a target in his life.”

“It’s Pierce,” Sean said.

“Pierce. Yes, it has to be Pierce. Pierce, our nemesis that is in all things absent. We no more know what Pierce looks like than we know what this Chameleon, Sergio looks like.” Kyle was tired of fighting phantoms. His family, his wife was in the attack zone. Nothing about this was interesting or sane.

Michael stood up. “It makes no sense. Three attacks. Three fronts. It clouds the issue.” He looked at his watch. “I need to see Parker. I’ll be back.”

Max fell into step with Michael. “Liz? What’s up?” Max searched his partner’s face. He looked tired, but over a hundred percent better than he did before he went on his honeymoon. A married Michael Guerin was something that at one time he could have never wrapped his mind around, but it worked. Now he couldn’t see Michael any other way. “You sick? Is Maria...?”

Michael stopped short and snarled in bad humor, “You know, I am getting sick of every other person in this damn city having a jones for Maria! She is married. Pregnant. Very off limits! What the hell is it that makes every person gravitate towards her anyway?”

Max shrugged. “Fine question, Michael. You took one look at her, and you were all but unbuttoning your pants. You aren’t the most forthcoming of men, but what you saw in her hit you hard. Why should it be different for any other person? You’re like a little kid that found a treasure and is afraid everyone else is out to steal it.”

Michael made a face, but there was some merit to Max’s observation. He was afraid. Eyes. He felt eyes on them. On Maria. Alex said that ‘They’ watch her. Protect her. There were too many people in his territory and it was leaving an itch between his shoulder blades.

“Screw your paranoia. Check out the engagement ring Jonathan gave me.”

Michael glanced at his partner in disgust. “Once again, I will remind you that we are men, not prattling, giggling girlfriends. We fart. We belch. We talk about tools. Blowing up things. We do not show off our engagement rings. Work with me Maxwell. Try to be a little less gay.”

“Get over it, Michael. You’re just jealous. This is Rolls Royce of rings!”

Michael stopped in the hall. “Are you saying your ring is better than my ring? I don’t think so!”

Max chuckled as they entered the laboratory areas. Scanning the workstations, they couldn’t find Parker. “Serena, you know where your brown mouse supervisor is?” Michael bellowed.

“Liz? She’s AWOL. Been missing almost since the fire alarm went off.” Serena, Liz’s assistant, was an attractive black woman with a very good bowling arm. She had been on the PD’s bowling team for the past six years. Total worthy of admiration. “Thing is, I’ve noticed her missing more and more lately. I mean, it might not be anything, but since she’s been involved in your cases, at least since the Cassie Wells one when she took that hit, she’s been distracted. Hard to locate at times.”

Max said comfortingly, “I’m sure it’s nothing, Serena. Liz used to blend into the woodwork, now she’s more obvious. She’s probably the same, it’s just that you never noticed it before.”

Michael glanced at Max in guilt. Their fault. They had sucked Liz into their alien abyss, and her involvement was starting to become apparent to her staff.

“Maybe. I worry sometimes. She seems different....distracted...I don’t know.” Serena smiled and shook her head. “Try her office. She’s probably in there working on lab reports, manpower estimates, or order requisition forms. All the great stuff about being in charge.”

Michael stood stock still. “Parker has an office?”

Serena laughed. “A small group of them actually, and a secretary. Down the hall, take a right, first main group of offices on the left. Hard to miss. Her office says ‘Director’.”

Michael and Max hurried along. This was news. They thought the PD handcuffed Parker to a laboratory table and occasionally fed her table scraps. It was a look into the woman’s professional life that was strange and bizarre. To them, Liz was a scientific techno-geek. Okay to look at, okay enough body, but somehow missing that spark of color that set her apart from wallpaper. Not that they didn’t like her. Just in a course of a normal day they really didn’t think about her either.

“Damn, she has a title?”

“She is technically a doctor, Michael. How do you think she got the expertise to draw blood and do analysis?”

Michael grimaced. Self-involved much? He really didn’t think of Parker at all. Even knowing her better after meeting Maria, Liz was still hardly a blip on his radar unless he was standing in front of her.

The secretary’s desk was empty. They bypassed it and knocked on Liz’s closed door. No answer. Opening the door, the two men ventured into unknown territory. Michael swore and drew his weapon.

“Put that away, you fool!” Max said with a hint of exasperation and edge to his voice. Liz’s office was neat. Preternaturally neat. Every book was in line. Ordered in height from tallest to shortest, left to right. Perfect. Her desk wasn’t cluttered. It barely looked used, yet it was clean and dusted. The room looked like a magazine display. Nothing denoted human involvement. Michael was coming to realize that even at their loft, it was Isabel’s clutter that made the loft seem lived in, but Liz was neat as a pin.

“Body snatchers.” Michael said through his teeth.

“I assure you there are no pods under my desk.” Liz’s voice behind them made both men jump. Michael just snarled and gave Parker a nasty look. She ignored it. “To what do I owe the honor of your forced entry into my space?” Liz walked around them and grabbing a coaster, placed a cup of latte, extra mocha, double crème with cardamom sprinkles on her desk. Michael eyed the cup of steaming liquid.

“Is that…”

Liz placed her body between her coffee and Michael, after placing an almond biscotti next to the saucer. “It is, and no, you may not have it. Go get your own. Down the street, there’s this nice coffee place.”

Max laughed. “Sorry to bother you, Liz.”

“No problem. What’s up this time?”

Michael snorted. He always suspected she rarely shared. She was almost an only child. “DNA samplings. The murder and rapist cases. I need you to run them against my DNA.”

Liz seemed startled. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly. I think it’s my evil alien counterpart.”

Liz walked her desk and looked out her window. Absentmindedly she reached back and slapped Michael’s hand heading for her biscotti. “This explains it.”

Max caught that. “Explains what?”

Liz turned and sat down in her chair dejectedly. “The samples were sent to Nationals to be cross typed. The FBI intercepted the lab work. This morning…” Liz tipped her head gesturing toward her labs, “I was suddenly granted a few new lab assistants. I’ve been trying to get funding for extra manpower for months. Now I got two. Just like that.” She snapped her finger as she looked at her paper work. “A Kathleen Topolsky and a Brian Stevenson.”

Michael swore and pushed his hands in his pockets. “Fucking great!”

Liz nodded. FBI. They were watching the lab work in her department. “I can try to run a genetic analysis. I’ve got the sequencer, but it will take a little time. If I set up the stuff today, and get it going tomorrow, I can electrophoresis it in gel on Monday, tops. It will take that long to separate the strands and attenuate them.”

“Can you do this with two agents on hand?” Max was concerned. Liz had a real life. A real job. He didn’t want to risk her livelihood for anything.

Liz smiled. “I’ll just blend into the woodwork. No problem.” Liz picked up her lab worksheets. “I have a nice heavy load of grunt work. Guess I’ll see how my FBI assistants can handle science.”

Michael smirked. That Parker had a nice mean streak to her at times. Surprise.

~~~

“Oh I love this!” Maria flipped through the catalogue. “I really didn’t expect the brochures to look so professional and classy.”

Eddie laughed. They were incredible. “You did good, boss. The Museum is pushing limits on the weekends. I had to set up more guides and staff for visitors. The weekdays we have visits from local schools and even from Las Cruces and surrounding communities. Last week, six other Universities asked for research privileges to study a few of the collections.” Eddie glanced at the far wall. “Damn, it’s noisier over here. What are they doing?”

“Building. A new addition to the loft. The wall comes down this weekend.”

“Bet Michael loves that.”

Maria just laughed and flipped through the other brochures. “Did New England get back to us about the early colonial collection?”

“No word. History has called three times a day. They’re doing a special studies class next semester, and they were depending on that collection to be available for them.”

Maria made a few marks on her notes. “I’ll call them. Next week, I should be in at the museum. I’m going to take it slow. Just show up from time to time. If I establish a schedule they’ll expect me to be there all the time.” Maria sat back and smiled at her friend. “How are my classes and teaching?”

Eddie laughed and went to get them both some more tea. “Oh, how are the classes? C’mon, Maria, ask what you really want to know. Do they miss you? Do the underclassmen still lust after you and think you have the best legs of any faculty member? Yes. Yes. And yes.” Eddie kissed her cheek as he handed over the cup. “You are sorely missed.”

Maria had to admit to a little bit of moisture in her eyes. “I miss it too. Damn, Eddie, my life has changed drastically! In over a year and a half, more than that, I can hardly recognize myself.”

“For the good or for the bad, Maria?” Eddie asked quietly.

Maria smiled. Michael. “All to the good. Not that there aren’t some bad things mixed in, but generally, I can say that I love my life.” Maria punched her friend on the arm. “I miss teaching though. I miss you, me and Tess, and our late night grading sessions.”

“It has been different and strange. That is a fact.” Eddie searched the depths of his tea. “Alex is worried.”

Maria sat back. “I know. I get that from him. How is he holding up?”

Eddie mimicked Maria and leaned back as well. “Not good, little sister. Not good. He’s dreaming more and more, and his answers for why are getting worse than Grandfather’s. He says the edges all fit perfectly. Too perfectly. Almost like they were forced to appear perfect.”

“And that means...?”

Eddie sipped his drink. “You got me. He’s pulled thin with this rapist out there, watching over Isabel, and watching over you.”

“Me?” Maria’s shock was etched on her face. “I don’t need protection.”

“Too bad. He’s worried. Alex was born that way. He sees battles and fights in his mind long before they occur. When he worries, I worry. So I offered to keep a close eye on you.”

Maria laughed. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve got all the protection I can take between Michael, Sean, and Jonathan. Spread the love elsewhere. Protect Liz or Isabel.”

Eddie laughed. “Okay, no more protectors. How about a friend?”

Maria turned to the side and smiled at her friend. “Always.”

~~~

“You missed.”

“It was discovered. That is not a miss. It is an unseen circumstance.” The man twirled a pair of needle-nose pliers in his hand nervously. But how did it become discovered? He had thought it infallible. One of his best.

The voice laughed bitterly. “I didn’t pay to have ‘unseen circumstances’ impede my request.”

“It doesn’t matter. My guarantee still applies. I will get it done next time.”

There was a pause on the line. “When?”

“I have another big job tomorrow. Your other job is set to go next week. I had to wait for a special time. It will be big. Very big.”

The man’s voice suddenly lightened. “Good. The pressure has let up over the past few weeks. They were all getting settled back into their lives. This will change that.” The man was silent for a moment. “I want it done right this time. I want that bastard to suffer.”

“He will. This time next week, he will be burying his son.” The line went dead as it was disconnected.

~~~

“No.”

“Michael, if you would just look at the plans…”

Michael sighed and turned to take Maria’s face between his two hands. Leaning down, he made direct eye contact. “No. I mean no, Maria.”

“But…”

“We had an agreement.” Michael turned back to his closet and continued going through his clothing. He was running out of things to wear to the bars. Laundry hadn’t come back yet, and everything he had already worn was smelling like sweat and smoke. “Maria, I love you. And I love that you have a generous heart. I was alone; you fill my life. I need a family and love, and there are so many people walking in and out of my home, all calling themselves my family that I’m overwhelmed. I ask you for a baby, you give me two. I say okay to a ‘small’ increase on the loft and you try to get twice that.”

“It’s not that, Michael.”

Michael turned and grabbed her around the middle, slowly marching her backwards into the bedroom and to the bed. Gently pushing her down on the bed and joining her there, he looked down at her face. She was still too thin, but her color was good and healthy and she had lost the dark rings under her eyes, along with that gaunt look in her cheeks.

Maria moaned softly as his mouth moved up her neck nipping playfully until his mouth found hers and there was nothing playful about the kiss. God, how could he ever know that it would feel like this? That having her would take so much of the loneliness from his soul? That one small body could fill that void left when he lost his father.

“I need it to be just you and me. You and me and the babies for a while. I don’t want to live in a damn palace. I don’t need that. I like small and intimate. I like tight quarters. Let’s expand slowly and increase it when we increase our family.”

Maria pulled away and looked at his face. God. He was so damn beautiful! Men weren’t supposed to look so angelic and breathtaking. Smiling slightly, she kissed him softly. “How do you see it?”

Michael moved his hand to cover the twins. “I see them. Small wiggly bodies piling into our bed to wake us on Christmas morning. I see them creating an unholy mess in the new family room with their toys all over the place. I can hear laughter and tears from small cuts and irritation from not getting their way. I can hear Mr. B’s loud yowling over having jam or glue in his fur. I want to feel them close. Not so much open space that I feel helpless to get to them if they need me.” Michael kissed Maria earnestly. “Can’t we keep this small for now? Just us and our kids?”

Maria smiled through watery tears. “I fall more in love with you every day. You know that, right?” Michael rubbed his face into her skin feeling not only her, but the babies. They could sense him. He could sense their movements.

“I know that.”

Maria smiled and licked the salt from his neck. “Okay, Detective. You win. Not the entire space, though a hot tub would’ve been nice.”

Michael moaned. She had a point. “Later. Next time.”

“When I get pregnant again.” Maria said simply.

Michael moved off her a little so he could really look at her. “You’re serious about wanting to try this again?”

Maria moved her fingers along his lip. “I dream about him, Michael. He’s a boy. Not our Mikey who already is. Another boy. He’s strong. So strong. Tall. He looks like you. Completely like you. A perfect replicate.” Maria smiled softly. “He was born to be what you are. A protector. A soldier. The twins aren’t even born, and I can already feel him waiting. How can I know that?”

Michael kissed her again. Hard. Long. Deep. With all the feeling there was in his body. He had seen him too. Dreamed of him. His second son. They would name him Rath.

~~~

“Hey, Sam…” Courtney looked over at her partner. “You want to get an early breakfast after we get off tonight?”

Sam smiled. “I could eat. Not the Denny’s this time. The International House of Pancakes. I like their blueberry syrup.”

Courtney looked over at Michael and Max both putting on wires. “Commander? You and Evans want to come with the rest of us for an early morning meal at the House of Pancakes?”

Michael scowled at his wire that kept peeling off his skin. “International House of Pancakes? IHOP? I’ll Heave Or Poop? No, think I’ll go home and climb into a nice warm bed instead, but ask Waters. His wife put him on a diet, so he might appreciate the opportunity to gorge.

Waters wholeheartedly agreed. Damn, he was ready to go immediately. They had gone to Denny’s the night before, before reporting for the early morning departmental meeting. Sam had caused a ruckus as he made eyes at a waitress forgetting he was dressed in drag. Her trucker boyfriend took offense until he saw Hanson, and suddenly he suggested a three-way which earned him a tray across the head. Sean just sat back, making catcalls and telling the woman to hit her boyfriend harder.

Michael saw Alex at the door of the back room leading into his club. It was already loud. Thursday was proving to be busy. “Hey, Alex, what does the crowd look like tonight?”

“Nasty. I think people are getting the word that there’s a predator on the loose. They seem fascinated. My band is playing three sets, but then I’m wrapping it early - around two.” Alex reached for a cigarette, but couldn’t find any. He really needed to give up on the quitting smoking thing. It was bleaching all the fun from his life. “Hear you and Maria are increasing the loft.”

“Yeah, the middle wall comes down this weekend.” Michael stared off into the bulging crowds in the club. Damn. Standing room only. “Hope it doesn’t make too much noise.”

“Not a problem. I’ve talked Liz and Isabel into another weekend camping trip with Eddie. They’re being surprisingly good sports about it.”

Michael laughed. “I never could imagine Isabel roughing it. Not ever Her idea of rustic is a hotel room with a black and white TV.”

Alex smiled slightly, wondering where he could bum a smoke. “Isabel is a surprise in all ways.”

“That a good thing?” Michael asked curiously. Alex and Isabel. They didn’t say much to others, but they were very much a couple.

“Excellent. Absolutely excellent.” Alex saw a motion from across the room. “Time to work. Try not to scare away my customers.”

“Sure I will.” Michael watched Alex cut through the crowds like butter. The throng moved to the side to let him pass. He was a kingly man. His body language was unassuming until he came into direct contact with others, and then he was undeniably a force to be recognized.