Gina Hanson was gorgeous. He’d always known she was beautiful, with an athlete’s body that wouldn’t quit, but she was clever too—an almost irresistible combination for a man like him who valued brains as well as beauty.
She’d been too young for him in the old world, and he wouldn’t have disrespected her father by messing around with his daughter. Messing around was all it could have been then. Jim had been devoted to his work as a CIA operative. There’d been no time for relationships or family. Jim had always figured if he survived long enough to retire, he’d start thinking about the white picket fence, family and dog that went along with it then.
All that had changed when the Earth was attacked. In a matter of days his priorities had shifted from protecting his homeland to just trying to stay alive. He’d thought long and hard about where to go once the bombardment had stopped. Slowly, he’d made his way on foot—occasionally on horseback, when he could find a mount that wasn’t too traumatized. It had taken him months.
In that time he’d gathered around him a core group of people. He hadn’t planned it that way, it just happened. The single horse he had originally found multiplied into a small herd with people and their few possessions atop each one.
One day, Jim had turned around and taken a good look at his posse and realized they resembled one of the Old West wagon trains, without the wagons. The majority of his people were men, but there were a few families and single women in the group. They were a large enough group that nobody hassled them on their way West.
When they got to the Rocky Mountains Jim led them to the site he had visited a few times in his official capacity. He knew a few of the codes and hoped that would be enough to get them all inside where they could be safe from the aliens who had started to colonize the Earth and capture human survivors. Although he hadn’t seen the aliens himself, everyone they met along the trail warned them of what was coming and what they’d heard. The human grapevine was alive and well. Even without television, radio, cell phones or any other kind of electronic communication, humanity was still in contact with one another.
Telepaths warned about the aliens, broadcasting their fear and their knowledge as far as they could. Those without telepathy learned from those who could receive the messages and word spread.
When they had arrived at the caves, they found the place in bad shape—at least on the surface. They had been able to pick their way through the debris clogging the entrance to the cave system Jim knew was there. Beyond the first level they’d found the facility mostly intact. They had also found more human survivors—military personnel and some of their families who had been stationed deep within Cheyenne Mountain.
Once Jim had rattled off his credentials to the few who were left inside the mountain, they were welcomed. Among Jim’s group, there were those who had skills the people already living inside could use. It had made for a much easier joining of the two groups. Leadership had been in question for a time, but Jim never craved the position. He’d been content to let the military run the show, happy to help and act as a lieutenant from time to time. Eventually leadership had fallen once again to Jim.
Years had passed and everyone in the facility still looked to Jim as their leader. He was comfortable in that role—or had been until a fight in the dark had brought a living, breathing memory of the past into his life.
Gina Hanson was going to be a problem. Oh, he didn’t truly think she meant any harm to his people, but he’d been wrong before and he had learned the hard way to take all necessary precautions. In his gut he felt the changes already beginning. The changes she brought with her that would alter every human life under his protection and possibly every life—human or Alvian—on the entire planet.
The thought was staggering. Yet, if anyone could accomplish such a lofty goal, Jim would bet good money on one of the Hanson clan. Her father had been a force of nature. Her brothers had been good, honorable, formidable men. If they were anything to go by, little Gina could be just the woman to change the world.
Grady Prime was given full run of the compound with only occasional intrusions on his work for checkups on his health and psyche as part of his participation in the ongoing experiment. He’d spent a couple of days letting the winged soldiers get to know him, sharing quiet meals in the mess hall and talking with those who were off duty. Many of the men remembered him from joint exercises the squadron had run with his own men in years past.
That prior knowledge worked both for and against his investigation. Some of the men—particularly the youngest of the group—seemed to be intimidated by his rank and were less forthcoming with their words. The older and more outgoing of the men spent more time talking about military maneuvers and seeking Grady Prime’s tactical knowledge than speaking about their former leader.
Grady listened to it all and assumed whatever role the particular individual seemed to need. He played tactics teacher when necessary and found gratification on a level he’d never before experienced as he taught the younger men. Emotions made the act of sharing his hard-earned knowledge all that much more satisfying. He felt genuine affection for some of the youngsters and great respect for many of the men who had superior intellect and skills.
And he loved to watch them fly.
There was a sentry post clearly visible in the lower limbs of one of the massive trees he could see from his bedroom window. Every morning, his first sight was of the winged sentries overlooking the compound and the surrounding forest. Sometimes he’d catch them flying up or down from the post during shift changes, and the sight never ceased to amaze him.
All in all, the emotional storms of the initial few weeks of the experiment were dying down. But the yearning in his heart and soul since his night with Gina hadn’t abated. If anything, it grew with each passing minute. He tried to calm himself with words of caution and internal promises that as soon as possible he’d track her down, but it didn’t really work.
At night, lying alone in his bed, he burned. He yearned. He cursed the fact that he hadn’t had a suitable crystal nearby to perform the tests of resonance that night. He needed to know one way or the other. He needed to touch her and hear the Hum, Kiss her and see the crystal glow. Most of all, he needed to Embrace her and learn if she really was the answer to his prayers, the light to his darkness, the possible savior of his sanity. He believed she was, but his analytical Alvian mind needed to see the proof of the crystal. Only then would his inner beast settle down, secure in the knowledge that he had a true mate.
Grady Prime understood how easy it would be to lose all perspective in the pursuit of a mate. Thoughts of her occupied him every other moment with no respite. He wondered if the condition would worsen or be relieved if he Embraced her with a suitable crystal nearby, only to discover she was not the woman for him.
He had to prepare himself for that disappointing possibility. His optimistic heart wouldn’t let him dwell on the idea for too long. No, his heart whispered that she was his and the small creature that was hope spoke whispers of joy and excitement every time he thought of making the crystal glow so bright, all would know they were true Resonance Mates.
First he had to find Sinclair Prime Past and then he had to find her again. If the Zxerah Patriarch had any pity in his soul, he would not hide her when the time came. If necessary, Grady Prime would bring his demand to the Council to let him perform the ancient test on the woman who could—should—be his. It was their oldest law. Resonance Mates should never be parted under any circumstances.
If there was a possibility Gina was his, Grady Prime thought he had a good chance of persuading the Council to make the Zxerah produce her for the final test. After all, they would owe him once he took care of their Prime Past problem one way or another. And he believed he could talk Mara 12 around to enhancing her study by adding a good old-fashioned mate search to the equation. He thought he knew just how to phrase it to get her to go along.