Torrent (Cosmic Forces Book 1) (8 page)

1
7

With a gasp, as if he’d been drowning and was coming up out of being submerged in water, Torrent opened his eyes.

Bright light. Afternoon light. He’d been out another whole day? Or more than one? He checked his interface. Only one.

He flexed his arms, his legs, moved his head from side to side. He seemed to be fully functional.

The room came into full focus, his eyes adjusting to the brightness after the hibernation. Alyssa was in a chair in the corner, completely silent, watching him.

Her eyes were those mysterious dark depths, and he couldn’t read their expression. Normally she wasn’t so difficult to read. Passion and anger, joy, sorrow, those emotions were easy to read in her eyes. Now, they were just impenetrable depths.

“Jesse said you saved his life.” Her voice was just as unreadable.

Torrent cleared his throat and sat up. He was naked beneath the sheet that was only pulled up to his waist. “Just helping. How’s Gillie? How’s Omar?”

“Gillie’s still shaken up.”

“Thank you for all this.” He indicated his bandages.

“You’re thanking me? We owe you.”

“No. It’s what… It’s what people do for family.” He almost choked on the words. He was such a damned liar. Wasn’t it time to tell her some truths?

She drew a deep breath, raised herself upright, back stiff. “When were you going to tell me—us—that you’re not human?”

He scrutinized her. “I am human.”

She stood up and approached the bed. “You’re a machine.” She pointed a finger at him. “I saw it. In there.”

“I am not a machine. I’m human. I’m just… enhanced.”

“To think I started to care for a cyborg.” She sat on the bed and put her head in her hands.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Is that what you were when you met my sister? Is everything about you a lie?” She looked up at him, her brown eyes swimming in a sea of tears, her lips full and pouty, and perfectly kissable.

Torrent shook his head. “Not everything.”

“Mostly?” She snapped the word with the crispness of a crossbow’s string.

“A lot.” He shook his head, disgusted with himself. “Do the others know?”

“Not yet.”

“There’s something you need to know about Melissa.” He put his hand on hers, covering its smallness.

“Don’t you dare say something bad about my sister.”

“I’m not. It’s just that we never actually… I was never with her… not like that.”

“So then what? I don’t understand.”

“It’s difficult to explain.”
It’s easy to explain, but then I’d lose you.
“Why haven’t you told the others?”

“I’m embarrassed to admit I trusted a machine.”

Something in Torrent broke. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into his arms, against his body. Crushing her lips with his, Torrent drove his tongue deep into her mouth, plundering the warmth and her cinnamon taste. His tongue battled hers; her temper was fierce but clearly her desire for him was equally fierce and matched his own desire. He took everything she offered and everything she held back with that one kiss.

His fingers tangled in her mass of dark curls, and he pulled her head back with the curls that were wrapped around his fists.

Alyssa’s hands stole up to his neck and pulled him down harder. He nipped at her lower lip, reminding her that she belonged to him, even if she wasn’t aware of it yet.

He pulled away. Her lips were even more plump, wet and slick with their joined saliva. His mouth yearned to take hers again, but he quelled that desire, asking instead, “Would a machine do that?”

She tensed, then a glimmer shone in her eyes for a second. “If it were programmed, it would.”

“Bullshit.” He exhaled the word on a single breath, then cupped her cheeks with his palms. “Alyssa.” He shook his head. “Bullshit.”

Torrent dipped his head again, slowly now, this time wanting to explore. He traced the line of her full lips from the corner of the bottom lip all the way to the other corner. He parted her lips with his tongue, teasing, gentle, caressing, cajoling his way in, wanting her tongue to issue an invitation that was irrefutable.

A low whimper came from Alyssa, a sound that was the best invitation he could have had. Bold and hungry for her, he took her hand and placed it on the sheet on top of his hardness. “Does a machine feel this?”

He watched her eyes widen as she swallowed, her throat working.

He raised her hand off his cock and put her fingers on his neck, just over his pulse. “Does it feel this? That’s what you do to me. Would that happen if I was a fucking machine?”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. Her body shook, as if she were…

Could she be crying? Hooking a finger beneath her chin, he tipped her head back. Tears were winding their way down her face.

“Alyssa, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. You risked your life for us. And you’re… a… what are you?” She gulped a sob. “And on top of that, you’re my sister’s ex.” She hiccupped another sob.

“Hey.” He kept his voice gentle and pulled her into his lap. “I was never, ever with her. I never met her. Okay? Are you happy now?”

“But… I told Gillie you’re his father, and how can you be his father if… was it… did you donate… did she use your…?”

Fuck
. He was in it, and deep, now. He pushed his hand over his face. One lie after another. He didn’t want to lie anymore.

“Do you trust me? Do you trust me not to hurt you or Gillie?”

She studied him with those dark eyes that were going to break his heart if she wouldn’t be his.

“I don’t know why, but yes. Is it crazy?”

“Crazier things have happened.” Actually, he wasn’t sure about that, because right now, the depth of his feelings was confusing him.

Cupping her face, he kissed her gently. He was far too confused. He was jacked up. This mission was bound to fail if he didn’t get his act together. One thing he knew for sure: he was not going to hurt Gillie or Alyssa.

He had to figure out what to do about Gillie. If he didn’t take Gillie back with him, they’d send someone else to do his job. If he lied and said that Gillie was dead, then they’d find out one day that he’d lied and his family would lose the money. His widowed mother and his handicapped brother would be screwed. Unless Torrent was dead. If Torrent died, the payments would continue and Gillie would be safe. Easy enough solution.

“I’ll go away. I shouldn’t have entered Gillie’s or your life.”

“You can’t go away.”

He couldn’t leave her. She was right about that.

“You are Gillie’s only surviving parent.”

He’d have to tell her the truth. Soon. Or he could simply die. Then she’d never know. She’d be better off not thinking that he’d lied about everything—almost everything.

“How’s Omar?”

“He’s got a round in his leg. We can’t call the doctor in. He’d have to report it to the Leaguers. I’ve tried to take it out.” Tears welled in her eyes. “He’s such an idiot. What was he thinking? Hanging out with those privateers…”

“Let me check his wound.”

T
orrent pulled
the bandage back over Omar’s leg. “There’s nothing I can do for him.”

“I can take the pain. Just dig it out,” Omar said.

Torrent didn’t want to tell him he was being foolhardy, that it was too close to a major artery, and his kit did not have the instruments needed for that. “I need my shirt,” he told Alyssa.

“It’s torn and bloody. You can have one of Jesse’s. Where do you think you’re going?” She put her hands on her hips. Her brows were a downward arched vee.

“Omar needs help. I know someone who can help him.”

One brow flew up. “Can’t you? I saw you that day on the roof.”

That seemed like ages ago. Was it really just a few days ago?

“No. I can’t. But if you’ll get me that shirt and stay out of my way, I can get him the help he needs.”

A
lyssa huffed
. “I’m going with you.”

“Who’s going to watch Gillie?”

Good point.
She wasn’t about to leave him with Omar again.

Damn Torrent.
He was right. She couldn’t go with him.

And she was dead tired too. She’d be a hindrance in this state. Not to mention that fatigue made her overemotional.

Everyone else had gone to work, with bags under their eyes and yawning. She’d made Jesse, Belinda, and Sonya breakfast then sent them on their way. They were all pretending it was just another day.

During the night, after she’d seen to Torrent and Omar, she’d helped her brother and cousins move the bodies of the two dead privateers and drop them down the elevator shaft. It was the best place they could think of to dispose of them as the shaft was blocked off with cement on all the lower floors. Unless someone opened the shaft up at the bottom floor, they’d never be found. And that had been cemented in as well.

Torrent took Alyssa’s hand, pulled her closer. “You’ll wait here? If there’s any reason you have to leave, I’ll meet you at the tunnel entrance to the place you taught four nights ago.”

“What? How…?” She shook her head. She didn’t want to know how he knew the things he knew. She didn’t even want to think about the object she’d discovered in his abdomen.

She pulled her hand out of his as she felt a slow heat rise to her chest, then to her cheeks as she thought of the parts of him that were definitely all man.

“I’m confused,” she said when she’d walked him to the front door.

He stood in the doorway, blocking her way to the hallway. “I’m pretty confused myself,” he admitted in return.

“How can you be confused? You’re the one with all the answers.”

“I don’t have an answer to why I feel the way I do about you. And that’s the biggest question of all.” His blue eyes were clear in their honesty.

She didn’t doubt him for a second.

He put a hand on either side of her shoulders and leaned forward, trapping her against the hallway wall.

She was a willing captive.

Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m coming back for you. And for Gillie. And the rest of your family. I’ll get Omar the help he needs. We’ll figure the rest of it out.”

Alyssa brought her hands up to his face. Closing her eyes, she traced the contours of his high cheekbones, imagined the light blue eyes with their earnest fire, the full lips, the jawline carved of stone.

“I’ll be here,” she whispered. They’d figure out the rest of it later.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was close to time for Belinda, Sonya, and Jesse to get home.

Maybe she would have told him a lie because maybe she wouldn’t be here. Maybe she’d follow him. When Belinda, Sonya, and Jesse came home, she just might not stay here. She’d go see if she could help.

Somehow.

T
orrent walked toward the wall
. He’d made a detour trip to his hiding spot in the building across from Alyssa’s and picked up his side bag, but left the rest of his gear, then headed toward the wall so he could join his team and see if they could help Omar.

It was still an hour from darkness, an hour from curfew. But the problem was the wall. He couldn’t very well expect to scale it in the broad daylight. And he didn’t want to lose an hour by waiting.

Did he really have any choice? He stood by the building next to the wall. There were no guards. The League of States didn’t waste much resources on guards. They didn’t have guards allocated to watch the walls. Each of the six gates that led to the city had guard posts that were manned, but that didn’t matter since a traveler needed to have an electronic pass to go in and out of the gates, unless they had authorization papers—a rarity.

The heavy work of guarding the wall was done by the privateers. And their bonuses were whatever they could take off of people who tried to go in or out of Houston. Many didn’t make it in or out alive.

Just outside the wall, these privateers drove by on patrol. Since Houston’s citizens didn’t have vehicles, they didn’t stand a chance of outrunning a privateer truck or van.

Torrent had passed several on his trip into the city. Some outside the walls, cruising, reminding him of wheeled hyenas, looking to scavenge a free meal. He’s run across several during his time in the city. Privateer vehicles with dark tinted windows that raised no Leaguer eyebrows and were unstopped and unhindered by anyone.

The city gates, forty foot high with electronic sensors opened automatically for privateer vehicles that entered and left the city.

Could the same electronic opener on one vehicle work on other Texas cities? Could a privateer vehicle in Houston open the gates in Dallas and San Antonio?

Torrent leaned against a building, not far from his scaling supplies, still hidden in the cubby he’d created in the wall. He was right next to the building he and Vector had visited last. His option to wait until dark didn’t appeal to him. Omar’s wound should be seen to before infection could set in. Now what? Risk being seen and scale the wall so that he could use the radio?

The sound of an engine made him press tight against the wall, blending with the building’s shadows.

One hour.

He’d wait. It seemed better that way than to risk being caught and have to fight a vehicle full of privateers. Who knew if they might overpower him if he tried to go over the wall before the cover of darkness?

The engine noise came even closer. He pressed against the wall more tightly. A large black Whistlemax vehicle approached. Built with thicker and heavier metal than average passenger cars, it was the size of a van, and could carry as many as fifteen comfortably. The windows were tinted black, several shades darker than passenger cars were allowed to in the League of States. Evidently, laws didn’t apply to privateer vehicles in the new Texas.

The vehicle passed him and he released a breath, his shoulders slumping with relief. Brakes in need of repair squealed a protest as the Whistlemax pulled to a stop just after passing him.

Damn.

Now what?

The door opened.

The driver’s door.

Torrent’s muscles tensed, his heartrate sped up as he readied himself, mentally preparing for whatever he had to do. Reaching into his side bag he pulled out one of the dead privateer’s pistol, the one with a silencer on it. He took a knife out and slipped it into his belt, then another pistol went into the waistband at his back.

A set of boots hit the ground. Denim pants just above them.

Torrent raised the pistol, aimed at right about where the man’s chest would be when he stepped out fully.

A red shirt came into his line of vision.

Should he wait for the rest of the team to come out or hit this one quickly?

Before he could finish his thought process fully, and before he raised his eyes to the man’s face, a voice spoke. A voice Torrent knew only too well.

“Why are you trying to kill me every time I see you?” Vector’s tone held amusement.

“You’re dressed like a privateer. You’re in one of their vehicles.” He shook his head. “And you’re wondering why I’d want to kill you?”

Vector eyes ran over Torrent. They stopped their travel up and down his body and took in the blood on his pants. “Looks like you’ve been up to some fun stuff.”

“A little bit.” Torrent gave Vector his own surveying glance. “Why are you in a Whistlemax? And dressed like that?”

“I was bored. And they came too damned close. So I took them. Easy pickings. They aren’t really trained, you know. Not like soldiers.” Vector shrugged. “Control was good with it. Agreed with me that it would come in handy.”

“You have no idea.” Without telling Vector the details that involved Alyssa, Torrent told him that a civilian had been hurt and needed medical care. “So I thought I could bring him back, maybe have Torch take a look at him. Get the round out. Then we can proceed forward with the mission.”

“You’re not… we aren’t supposed to be seen. No one is supposed to know about us. Was he helping you?”

More like I was helping him.
“You could say that, more or less.”

“Control’s not going to be happy about this.”

He’ll be even unhappier if he finds out what I’ve been up to and the things going through my head.
“I’ll take the heat. Doesn’t seem right to walk away with him hurt like this.”

“And the package?”

“It’ll all work out.”

“Yeah, well, don’t look now, but we have company.”

Torrent turned around to see what Vector was pointing at. He frowned. “What the hell?”

Alyssa. Barely hidden behind a corner. A defiant look on her face. Dark shadows were a testimony to her sleeplessness.

She stormed toward them. “Who is this?”

“Alyssa, this is Vector. Vector, Alyssa.”

“Is he one like you?”

“You told her?” Vector wore a stunned look.

“No. Of course not. I was injured, shut down to R-H. She saw.” Torrent sighed. “I’ll take her back. I can’t return though, not with the—package—boy.”

Alyssa’s head snapped in his direction, her eyes shut to a squint.

Vector’s narrowed, too. He studied Torrent intently for what seemed like a long time. Finally, “You want me to lie?”

I wish I could ask you to do that.
“No.” Torrent shook his head. “Don’t get involved. And I wouldn’t ask you to do that anyway.”

“But I would.” Vector put a hand on his shoulder. “For you. I would.”

“I know you would, but I have a solution.”

“Your family. If you don’t come back, then they don’t get any money.”

Torrent repeated himself. “I have a solution.”

Vector took his knife out of its sheath on his belt and began turning it over and over in his hand.

Alyssa’s eyes widened. “What?”

Vector ignored her. “There’s only one way—no. I won’t let you do that.”

“What?” Alyssa repeated.

Torrent took her hand. “Let’s go.”

“
N
o
.” Alyssa yanked her hand away from his grasp. She didn’t like the look in his eyes. It scared her, though she wasn’t afraid of him. “What are you going to do?”

Vector looked at both of them, his jawline hard. “If he’s dead, then there’s no issue. The package can stay, and his family gets the money.”

“Package?” Alyssa looked at Torrent. “What’s he talking about? What package?”

“So she knows about you, me, us… but she doesn’t know about the package?”

“She doesn’t know about us.” Torrent wished Vector would shut the hell up. “She just knows about me. No details.”

“I want details. Now.” Alyssa crossed her arms over her luscious chest, her full lips drawn into a formidable line that brooked no argument.

“And what is it that Vector’s saying you’re going to do? What’s this solution?” She looked from one guy to the other. “What kind of names are Vector and Torrent, anyway?”

Vector cleared his throat and waited. He cleared it again. “It looks to me like Torrent plans to end up dead. That way he doesn’t have to make any hard decisions.”

Torrent cocked his arm and before Alyssa could blink, he’d popped Vector in the jaw. Vector rubbed the sore area, but didn’t retaliate. Torrent shook his head as if he was shaking it at himself.

How dare he think he could go off and die when she’d just gotten to know him, to care for him, to…?

Alyssa shoved Torrent. Both hands, square in the center of his chest. He didn’t budge. “I won’t let you do that,” she forced the words out from her clenched jaw, her hands fists at her side.

Torrent’s blue gaze spat fury. “What do you care? I’m a fucking machine, remember?”

“Not to me.” She stepped closer to him, put her hands around his neck, then up to his head, grabbing his head, without enough hair to be able to hold, she pulled his face down. Her lips found his with a fierceness and a desperation. Her tongue entered his mouth, taking his by storm. She claimed him, unwilling to let him go, unable to contain the feelings he roused in her.

His hands crept behind her, pressing against the small of her back, pulling him against his body. His tongue tangled with hers in an eternal kiss.

There was no one else, nothing else in the universe. Her. Him.

Until—

Vector coughed.

Torrent and Alyssa both turned toward Vector.

“I think I get what’s going on,” Vector said. “I think we’re in some deep shit.”

“Not we.” Torrent said. “Me. You stay out of it,”

“I don’t think so. What else are you not telling me?”

Alyssa looked at Torrent and Vector. There was an undercurrent here she didn’t understand. But she had to trust Torrent. She knew she could trust him. In everything.

Torrent sucked a deep breath in, his wide chest expanding. “It’s Alyssa’s cousin. He has a round in his leg. Think Torch could help him?”

Vector nodded, as if glad that Torrent was coming to his senses. “If anyone could.”

“I’ll get him here.” Torrent added.” Say tonight? Right after dark? Right here?”

“What’s your plan, exactly?” Vector asked.

“I’m going back to get him. He’s at the package’s address.” Torrent paused. “Alyssa’s nephew.”

“Oh, the package. Shit.” Vector said under his breath, barely audible, but Alyssa caught it.

“Meet you right here, after midnight. That should give me plenty of time to get him back here.”

“What’s this about a package?”

Alyssa whispered to Torrent as soon as Vector had gotten in the privateer vehicle and driven off.

“And what am I missing?” She planted her hands on her hips.