stuck around. Well, one out of two wasn’t bad.
“What?” Martini asked as everyone else spun toward me.
“The stone . . . it burned me.” I showed him my palm. I had a burn mark in the rounded shape of the jewel.
Lorraine came over and pulled a tube out of the small med case she carried with her at all times now. She put something on the burn, and the pain stopped.
“How did it get hot?” Christopher asked.
Michael leaned forward and put his hand on it. “It’s cool to the touch.”
I put my hand toward it again. “I can feel the heat from here.” My hand was a good six inches away. I left it there as the others put their hands on the necklace. It was cool for everyone else, including Martini.
“What in hell is going on?” Martini asked finally.
“I don’t think whoever’s coming likes me.”
CHAPTER 6
WE WERE BACK AT THE LAIR. It was on the fifteenth floor of the Dulce Science Center, and no one went there but Martini and me. Other than what I now called the A-C Elves. I had no idea if there really were elves about, but someone or something did the housekeeping, ensured that the right clothes were there for you, no matter when you showed up or what room you showed up in, and snatched your dirty laundry in the night. I assumed the same elves provided the drinks that appeared in the variety I wanted, anywhere, any time, as long as it was in a fridge of some kind. As of yet, Martini hadn’t shared how this was done. I got the impression he enjoyed the fact I really wanted to know.
I would have loved something stronger than Cherry Coke, but A-Cs were deadly allergic to alcohol, and the last thing I wanted to do was either kill Martini because there was too much alcohol residue in my mouth or have him unable to kiss me.
My hand didn’t hurt much any more, but I was staring at it. I knew better than to tell Martini that his aunt’s consciousness was in ACE. Neither he nor Christopher were really over the trauma of losing her, and that had happened almost twenty-one years ago.
I was cuddled in Martini’s lap, and we had the TV on, watching Love Boat reruns. He loved all the cheesy old shows, and I just wanted to have something on I could pretend to pay attention to. This was the most human room of any A-C location I’d ever seen, and right now it was overwhelmingly comforting.
“Baby, it’ll be okay.” He’d said this about a hundred times. I still didn’t believe it, or believe that he believed it.
“Why did you tell Chuckie he was more of a problem than Christopher?”
“Because he’s a viable alternative who’s already proposed to you, hasn’t married anyone else in the meantime, and isn’t in our bloodline,” Martini growled. “And since he’s ostensibly my superior, it makes him a better catch for you, at least the way the home world hierarchy apparently thinks. According to my father, that actually makes it easier for the royal family to insist that you can’t marry me. I won’t be leaving you at the altar—I’ll merely step aside and let a more appropriate man have you.”
How Emily Post of them. I had no comment to this that wasn’t going to start us off into some kind of fight over things we weren’t going to allow to happen. Besides, I was more stuck on something else. “Royal family?”
“I didn’t know!”
“I know.” I had a thought. “I wonder if Barbara knows.”
“I’m sure she does.”
“No wonder she wanted Doreen to marry you.”
“Like Doreen would enjoy having her hand burned any more than you would?”
I managed to laugh. “No, but I’m sure Barbara wasn’t thinking about anything other than making a great match for her daughter.”
He stroked the back of my neck. “You think I’m a good catch?” I could hear the fear lurking there, just hidden beneath the surface.
I leaned my head against his. “Yes, Jeff. And not because you’re some royal scion or prodigal son or whatever. And not because you’re the head of Centaurion
“What?” Martini asked as everyone else spun toward me.
“The stone . . . it burned me.” I showed him my palm. I had a burn mark in the rounded shape of the jewel.
Lorraine came over and pulled a tube out of the small med case she carried with her at all times now. She put something on the burn, and the pain stopped.
“How did it get hot?” Christopher asked.
Michael leaned forward and put his hand on it. “It’s cool to the touch.”
I put my hand toward it again. “I can feel the heat from here.” My hand was a good six inches away. I left it there as the others put their hands on the necklace. It was cool for everyone else, including Martini.
“What in hell is going on?” Martini asked finally.
“I don’t think whoever’s coming likes me.”
CHAPTER 6
WE WERE BACK AT THE LAIR. It was on the fifteenth floor of the Dulce Science Center, and no one went there but Martini and me. Other than what I now called the A-C Elves. I had no idea if there really were elves about, but someone or something did the housekeeping, ensured that the right clothes were there for you, no matter when you showed up or what room you showed up in, and snatched your dirty laundry in the night. I assumed the same elves provided the drinks that appeared in the variety I wanted, anywhere, any time, as long as it was in a fridge of some kind. As of yet, Martini hadn’t shared how this was done. I got the impression he enjoyed the fact I really wanted to know.
I would have loved something stronger than Cherry Coke, but A-Cs were deadly allergic to alcohol, and the last thing I wanted to do was either kill Martini because there was too much alcohol residue in my mouth or have him unable to kiss me.
My hand didn’t hurt much any more, but I was staring at it. I knew better than to tell Martini that his aunt’s consciousness was in ACE. Neither he nor Christopher were really over the trauma of losing her, and that had happened almost twenty-one years ago.
I was cuddled in Martini’s lap, and we had the TV on, watching Love Boat reruns. He loved all the cheesy old shows, and I just wanted to have something on I could pretend to pay attention to. This was the most human room of any A-C location I’d ever seen, and right now it was overwhelmingly comforting.
“Baby, it’ll be okay.” He’d said this about a hundred times. I still didn’t believe it, or believe that he believed it.
“Why did you tell Chuckie he was more of a problem than Christopher?”
“Because he’s a viable alternative who’s already proposed to you, hasn’t married anyone else in the meantime, and isn’t in our bloodline,” Martini growled. “And since he’s ostensibly my superior, it makes him a better catch for you, at least the way the home world hierarchy apparently thinks. According to my father, that actually makes it easier for the royal family to insist that you can’t marry me. I won’t be leaving you at the altar—I’ll merely step aside and let a more appropriate man have you.”
How Emily Post of them. I had no comment to this that wasn’t going to start us off into some kind of fight over things we weren’t going to allow to happen. Besides, I was more stuck on something else. “Royal family?”
“I didn’t know!”
“I know.” I had a thought. “I wonder if Barbara knows.”
“I’m sure she does.”
“No wonder she wanted Doreen to marry you.”
“Like Doreen would enjoy having her hand burned any more than you would?”
I managed to laugh. “No, but I’m sure Barbara wasn’t thinking about anything other than making a great match for her daughter.”
He stroked the back of my neck. “You think I’m a good catch?” I could hear the fear lurking there, just hidden beneath the surface.
I leaned my head against his. “Yes, Jeff. And not because you’re some royal scion or prodigal son or whatever. And not because you’re the head of Centaurion
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