James started as something wet wiped against his nose. He reached out reflexively and closed a hand around his attacker's neck. A doggy whimper brought him into the present and he opened his eyes to the sight of one of the beagles half-standing on his chest. He released the terrified dog slowly, patting its flank to reassure it.

The late afternoon sun illuminated the small room. A slight weight was settled across his stomach. He glanced down his bare chest and saw Amy stretched across him. James frowned as he realized his chest was not the only part of him that was unclothed. The girl's long dark brown hair was spread across his thighs, the silky strands caressing his genitals.

With that thought, James was awake, totally. And aroused. The day and night before snapped back into focus. Amy had kept bringing him beer. He'd lost count after an even dozen, and had allowed her to lure him into slow dancing with her in a dark corner near the stereo. She'd continued to switch his empty bottles with full ones, and then…

He'd procreated with a sapiens! James sat up suddenly. Mark was going to kill him. And what would Lewis do? These people were under his protection. Damn, he was in deep shit.

Her sleep disturbed, Amy sat up…her hair dragging across his lap as she moved. James groaned at the sensation. She turned her face up to him, smiling, and pulled his lips down to hers for a kiss. He felt her tongue slip into his mouth, and she greedily sucked on his.

The hell with Mark and Lewis, he thought. He took the female into his arms and groaned again as she wrapped herself around him. Her legs closed around his hips as she carefully took his erection deep inside her wet heat. James twisted, pulling Amy beneath him, and began a horizontal dance that elicited delighted moans from his writhing partner.

... ...

Lewis sat in the window seat and brooded. Things were not going as planned. The facility he had designed and carefully built piece by piece over the past decade was occupied by fools if not outright traitors. To watch them running the estate much as he had envisioned it pained him like a festering wound – because there didn't seem to be a damned thing he could do about it, at the moment. He grudgingly admitted that they were running it efficiently. It was small comfort. He looked up as Keridwen sighed. She was also nothing like he would have planned. Not that one could plan a bond mate…such things simply happened.

Although it was only early evening, his mate was asleep in their bed. They had spent a long day reviewing possible scenarios for tomorrow's operation in Salinas. Keridwen had been included in the work group to give predictions of her cousin's reaction to any tactic they might employ. Her input had been vital. He had not seen the need to include Attwood and Peterson, but supposed it could have been worse. At least it had not been suggested that Dr. Parker be present.

Keridwen had asked him to be open-minded, to at least try and see the woman from his cousin's point of view. Impossible. Tom's judgment had obviously been skewed by a conflict between his mission programming and the memory block imposed after the great betrayal. He was beginning to wonder if the recent drug therapy he had used had actually reinforced Tom's delusions about the sapiens. Once Tom was retrieved he'd have to remove all programming and see if he could remove the memory block. What was needed to protect a child could be harming the man Tom had become.

He moved towards the hidden panel, there were plans to review and the security for Keridwen here while he was gone to consider…he stopped as she threw the covers off and turned onto her back. Lewis found himself smiling as he walked over to check on her. Her wild curls tumbled over the pillow; some of their original red was beginning to show through as the temporary dye faded. A slight pout curved her lips, and the red-gold lashes that framed her large eyes rested on her soft cheeks.

She was wearing a silk nightgown. He had sent Alexa out to pick up clothing for his mate. Some of his own had already been stored here in anticipation of his move from their Nevada encampment. He had not included this particular garment on his list, but evidently Keridwen had confided her dislike of sleeping in the nude to Alexa. Lewis brushed the backs of his fingers down his mate's cheek, then over her lips and chin. He continued the casual caress, touching the small scar on the side of her neck then the hardening peaks of her breasts through the midnight blue silk.

Keridwen had given him so much. Not only his life…twice, but her trust, her desires, and her dreams. His dreams as well. Lewis' hand moved down to rest on her abdomen. Soon the plumpness that she so despised would be lost in the roundness of pregnancy. He had scented the change in her hormones yesterday, but had not yet told her. There would be time enough once Tom had been retrieved and he had made a decision on what to do with these…intruders.

Once Tom had been retrieved and the programming conflicts resolved things would be different. Together they could overset the council. They were the Chosen of this place and time…the ones described in the precognitive visions of their ancestors three generations ago. The ones their people should follow to ensure their survival. They would choose the same path. They had to or there would be confusion, anarchy.

There were other Chosen, others whose actions would determine their people's future. But each set of Chosen was tied to a distinct time period, a separate prophecy. He, Tom, and two others were marked with the same brand, the marks that corresponded with the arrival of Kewley's comet this fall. The others were dead. One had fallen during the betrayal. The other had died fleeing the sapiens the night their people were ordered to abandon Los Angeles. A drunk driver, of all things, had removed his actions from consideration.

Only he and Tom were left now, two sides of the same coin. The prophecies had known that as well. He remembered that section of the text:

Four shall begin, yet two shall remain.

The treasure of one line, two sides of the same coin.

Light and dark, their path shall be as one then rent asunder.

Yet both will choose fire and be purified in its flame.

Follow them well, our survival depends upon it.

"Lewis?" Keri mumbled, still half asleep.

"Yes, my own?"

She sat up and moved into his arms. "I had a bad dream, people I knew were dying."

He stroked her back. "Anyone I know?"

"No. Well, I'm not sure. I don't exactly know who they were, just that I knew them and trusted them.

"Hmm. Did you have the chili at dinner?"

Keri sighed. No. Besides, I never get food nightmares."

"What did you eat?" he asked as her stomach growled.

"Um, well…"

"You skipped dinner," Lewis stated rather than asked.

"I wasn't really hungry."

"You are too concerned about your weight," he corrected her.

She sighed again. "Yeah, well, I'm surrounded by bodies beautiful. It's getting to me." Keri frowned at his chuckle. "It's not funny."

"No, Keridwen, but neither is starving yourself. Tomorrow we start that walking we discussed, hmm?"

"Okay."

"And tonight, you will raid the kitchen for a healthy snack to tide you over until breakfast."

"Hmm, milk and fruit?"

"Excellent choice. I have work to do," he told her gesturing towards the hidden panel he had shown her. "Perhaps you could collect a snack for both of us and bring it up?"

Keri grinned. "Absolutely." She kissed him quickly then slid out of bed and headed for the door.

"Keridwen…" he began in a warning tone.

She stopped. "What?"

"Get dressed first."

She flushed then giggled. "Oh, yeah. Good idea."

"Hmm."

... ...

Mark frowned as he listened to the 'request' made over the phone. It wasn't that he minded fulfilling it; the question was where and how. "I'll get back to you in a few minutes," he told the caller.

He was certain that he had heard Keri come downstairs, and listened carefully in the hall to locate her. His extra senses had been honed to read people directly, on a face to face basis, unlike the chameleons and soldiers who could tell where a person was and who they were…at least whether they were enemy or friend…at varying distances depending on the level of their gifts. Mark had never regretted that difference until the night Paul was killed. If he had felt the hostile intent of the snipers just a few seconds sooner...

Paul had been selected for the leadership program, one of the few programs that did not take volunteers. He could not have sensed their attackers either. The training of his gifts had allowed him to influence people, convince them of his wisdom, competence and abilities. He had served on the council for nearly a dozen years before founding the coexistence faction, and for a dozen years thereafter. It had been his decision to have Mark contact Danielle Ashton after receiving Lewis' reports of how the woman had supported Tom Daniels' friends. Tragically, both he and Lewis had been wrong.

Now Mark had to rely on another's gift yet again. Keri Ashton had learned to tell truth from lies, instinctively knew whom she should trust and whom she should not. It had led her into an unlikely, but somehow fitting match with Lewis. He was hoping she could reassure him on the subject at hand.

... ...

Keri puttered happily in the kitchen. They were a bit low on fruit. One lonely bunch of grapes had been all that she could find. What she had found was a baguette of French bread and three kinds of cheese. A generous slice of Brie now roasted in the oven, along with some garlic, and she was cutting Extra Sharp New York Cheddar and a bit of Swiss into bite size chunks.

"Good evening, Keri," Mark said from the half-open door to the hall. Keri put the knife down carefully. She hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings and had nearly sliced a fingertip off. Lewis would be pissed as all hell if he found out…not about the finger, about her inattention to her safety.

"Hi, what's up?"

He frowned as he entered the room. "Lewis allowed you to come downstairs alone?"

Keri chuckled. "Yeah, amazing, isn't it? Actually, he's busy double checking all the plans for tomorrow. I think he's gotten a bit more confident of your security; he's not worried about my safety in the house anymore. Though god forbid I should so much as step outside alone."

"Hmm, still obsessing on that."

"Yeah, still."

Mark sighed. "I'm sorry, Keri. Carla will be back in the morning; perhaps she will have some ideas. Alexa and Robert agree with you about his excessive fears for your safety, but other than that they've noticed nothing out of character."

"Then they aren't looking hard enough," Keri muttered.

"Unless there is concrete proof, we cannot…"

"My word doesn't count?"

"It's not that we don't believe you. On the contrary, you say he is different than the man you accepted as mate and we are certain he is. But what if his treatment by your cousin affected him? What if this is what he was like before his incarceration, other than the issues with your safety, of course."

"You don't understand. My gift is different than yours. I read deeper than you can imagine…I don't just see the mind, the emotions. I see the heart and soul."

"Keri, please…"

"Go ahead and scoff all you like. But that's what's different. There used to be light and joy in him. It was deep, buried. But now I can't find it at all." She dropped down on a chair. "Look, we're not getting anywhere with this, so let's drop it. What did you need?"

Mark shrugged. "The bikers that Lewis requested help from. Are they trustworthy?"

"Yes, very."

"If they are given information and swear not to reveal it…"

"They'd die first. These guys are vets, most of them. They got us past roadblocks even after Lewis had pissed their leader off. Bear even took us to his in-law's home…his wife's home. You can trust them."

"Thank you."

... ...

The phone rang for far too long and Mark was becoming concerned. When it was answered, he heard a female giggling in the immediate background. "Yes."

"Send them here," Mark told his agent. I'll tell the guards to expect them. I need them to arrive no later than 0900 so that we can get them settled before we leave."

"No problem."

Mark replaced the phone and looked at the dormitory records. Hopefully they had enough room for the expected arrivals.

... ...

Keri had looked at the loaded tray and realized there was no way she would successfully get it up two fights of stairs, especially once she poured the milk. She looked around the kitchen for an alternative. Tucked on top of the refrigerator was a stack of cotton shopping bags from Trader Joe's intended for the pseudo environmentally conscious yuppies that shopped there. Keri bet that the dominants had other reasons. She pulled two down and loaded one of them with a half-gallon container of milk, two glasses, a bag with the cold cheeses, another with the grapes, and a large cloth napkin. She wrapped the casserole containers with the baked garlic and Brie in kitchen towels before loading them into the other bag, then added the baguette she'd also warmed in the oven for just a few minutes before putting it back in its paper sleeve.

After sliding the two bags over her left shoulder, she picked up the tray and made her way upstairs. She was almost to their door when she realized she'd forgotten a knife. "Oh shit," she muttered; then remembered that there should be one in the kitchenette. She wasn't terribly surprised when the suite's door opened before she could reach for the knob.

She had spread out the food on a small table that Lewis had moved beside the chaise. They were comfortably ensconced in the lounge, Keri sitting in front of Lewis and snuggled against his chest, listening to one of his classical CDs. The kitchenette had been bare of utensils; she made a mental note to have that corrected. But Lewis had a knife. In fact, he had used the opportunity to show her his weapon stash…more like a munitions depot if the truth were told.

Keri sighed as he held another chunk of bread spread with warm Brie and garlic to her lips. "I'm full."

"No, you are not."

Leaning her head back on his shoulder she gave him her best stubborn look. He chuckled, kissed her, and presented the food once again.

"Keridwen, I can feel your stomach complaining about the emptiness. How much of your breakfast did you eat? I know you ate very little lunch."

She sighed again and opened her mouth for the bread. The thing she hated most about this over-protectiveness was his tendency to treat her like a child. Keri chewed thoughtfully. She could almost hear Lewis' mental preoccupation with the plans for tomorrow beating in time to the music. He had confided to her that the mathematical precision of many classical works helped him to think.

"Lewis, don't the good times you had with Marjorie and your children help you deal with their deaths at all?" He stiffened. "I mean, when my parents died, I was traumatized, but I learned to remember how much they loved me, and the happiness we had together. There were enough of those memories for me to hold on to."

He took a deep breath. "Keridwen, all that I can see anymore is the life draining from their bodies. In my dreams their blood still covers me and I hear Marjorie begging me to save the children." His arms tightened around her. "They died before she did…there was nothing I could do for any of them but take revenge."

"But what about when you were together, how about when the babies were born…"

"They are dead. Nothing from before can exist…it is all gone…the past is as dead as they are," he grated in a bitter voice.

Keri pushed the table away and turned in his arms. She held him tightly as the pain raged through him, murmuring words of love, promising to stay safe, until he finally slept.

She couldn't help but think she had missed something vital.

... ...

Mark walked down the hall to the Master suite and paused outside the door. There was no one inside. He turned and entered his own rooms at the end of another branch of the Y-shaped building, and stepped out onto the balcony. A brief search revealed Lewis strolling along the perimeter of the property with Keridwen all but trotting to keep up.

Checking the time he decided to wait until they had returned to inform Lewis of the expected arrivals. It was only 0730. He smiled as he realized that the chameleons had him thinking in military time.

He had finished checking his email and the last minute reports when he heard the distinct sound of several Harley Davidson motorcycles. They were earlier than he'd expected and Lewis had not yet been warned of their impending arrival. This could be bad.

Mark rushed outside in time to feel Lewis' wave of fury as he identified the new arrivals. "Get inside," Lewis told Keri.

"I'm fine here," she said in a reasonable tone. "These are our friends. They won't hurt me."

"We have no friends," he hissed quietly enough that the newcomers could not hear it. "Go inside where you are safe."

"Lewis, I was looking…" Mark began.

"Again, you made a decision that affects my mate's safety without informing me. What poor excuse would you like to offer this time?"

Mark sighed. "You had already retired and I thought…"

"No, you did not think." He grabbed Keri by one arm and marched towards the house. "Come with us," he ordered Mark.

After pausing to order a wide-eyed Anja to show their guests to the dorm area, Mark followed Lewis inside. Robert and Alexa followed right on his heels.

... ...

The air in the study vibrated with Lewis' anger. "You had no business bringing them here."

"Their men are going to risk their lives to help us," Mark said. "The least we can do in return is to guarantee the women's safety."

"You should have sent them elsewhere."

"Lewis, we are already short on personnel for this mission. You've told me that yourself. We could not afford to split the rear guard to cover two groups of non-combatants. Bringing them here was the only viable option."

"By bringing them here you have condemned them. I cannot allow knowledge of this facility…"

"It is only a facility. We can get another."

"I spent a decade building this one. It was perfect." He turned to glare at Alexa and Robert. "I am surrounded by betrayal."

"Lewis, please!" Keri said, grabbing him by the waist. "This isn't a problem. Bear's people will keep their mouths shut, you know that."

"Keridwen, your safety is too important to take that chance." He pushed her away and turned back to Mark. "The risk must be eliminated. Either you deal with it, or I will. Understood?"

"I am not your executioner, Lewis."

"Damn it, Lewis, you are not going to kill them!" Keri recoiled as he spun to face her. "You owe them lives…Our lives. You owe them my life twice over. You can't repay their trust with murder."

He ignored her, turning back to Mark. "Deal with it before we leave. I will not be as merciful as I suspect you will manage." He turned on his heel and retreated up the stairs. Keri dropped into a chair, curled up in a ball and sobbed.

... ...

"What in creation happened here?" Carla asked as she entered the study. "Lewis looked like he was ready to kill someone."

"He is," Mark said tiredly.

"Something's wrong with him. I keep telling you…" Keri's voice was muffled, her head buried in her arms.

Alexa nodded as Carla looked to her for confirmation. "Something is very wrong. One of the basic tenets that Lewis teaches his chameleons is to honor life debts until and unless the one to whom you owe the debt betrays you in some way. These people have not betrayed him; they have, in fact, offered to risk their lives for his sake yet again."

"True," Robert confirmed. "I have never seen him like this. These people are not legitimately our prey, not yet. There is no reason to kill them at this time."

"Keri?" Carla said, laying a gentle hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "Have you picked up on anything else? Mark told me about the over-protectiveness."

Keri shuddered and slowly looked up. Her face was wet with tears and her eyes were red rimmed. "It's been getting worse. When he feels in control he's okay, but when the least thing happens that he hasn't planned for with several contingencies, he goes off. Totally and completely paranoid." She glanced at Mark. "Don't tell me I'm wrong. I know paranoia when I see it."

"I know that you do. I'm aware that psychology was a major part of the required course work for your degree."

Keri laughed. The sound seemed to be on the edge of hysteria…Carla was worried. If Lewis' condition unbalanced Keri they would have a serious problem on their hands.

"Yeah. A whole fucking lot of good my degree is doing me." She was rocking back and forth in the chair, also not a good sign. "I mean, you'd think I'd be an expert in things like this, right? Isn't this whole bond thing a Parapsychologist's wet dream? Carla, I blew it, I know it's my fault. He was fine before I started messing with his psyche."

"He was dying before you reclaimed him from madness," Carla corrected her. "Keri, reclamation is not an exact science. No two cases are the same. And yours was especially difficult. We've never had a case where the mate doing the reclaiming was the patient's second mate." She sighed. "It's a miracle you were able to help him at all."

"I know," Keri said in a small voice. "I felt you lie to me about the odds, I just didn't want to call you on it. Thought maybe it was better if I didn't know exactly how impossible it was."

"And that is why I lied." Carla frowned. "Has there been anything else different, or wrong?"

"He's fixating on the memories of Marjorie and the children's deaths. He won't talk about their lives together at all."

"Won't or can't?"

"What?"

"Does he refuse, or can he not access the memories?"

"Um, let me think…we just talked about it, or rather, didn't talk about it last night." She fell silent. "Okay, he said, and I quote, all that I can see anymore is the life draining from their bodies. And then, he said, they are dead. Nothing from before can exist…it is all gone…the past is as dead as they are. I think that's it."

"Hmm, okay, think carefully now. When you were in his mind, what memories did you see?"

"Lewis holding Marjorie and the children as they died, and fighting the soldiers."

"Nothing else?"

"No. There was a tornado, I willed myself to his side. Interrupted the memory sequence and explained to him who I was and why I was there. Convinced him that I needed him, and then the tornado took down the walls where he was and we held onto each other and then we were back."

Carla's eyes drifted closed. "Oh my."

Keri frowned thoughtfully. "Oh no." She clutched Carla's arm. "You don't think…?"

"It certainly sounds like it. I'll go have a word with him. I knew him when he was bonded with Marjorie…which is probably why he didn't recognize me. It should be easy enough to determine."

"Oh god, I really screwed up."

"No Keri. You did what you could. Maybe it required two sessions. Considering the control he learned throughout his career as a chameleon and later the program master, it's not surprising that he's managed to hide it this long."

... ...

Lewis repacked the equipment bag he would be taking on the operation for the sixth time. He was certain something was missing. A presence in the hall caught his attention. It was Carla Richard. If she was here to protest the deaths of the biker's women, she could save her breath. Nothing could be allowed to endanger Keridwen. Not this close to when he'd have the means to ensure her safety. Tom would help him. Tom had seen much of his own family die. Of all people, Tom would understand.

He rose and opened the door to find Carla standing patiently outside.

"Good morning, Lewis. You dashed by so quickly downstairs that I didn't get a chance to confirm my instructions with you. Am I supposed to be in the cargo van with Dr. Tate, or did you want me to ride with someone else and only step in if we have injuries?"

Lewis blinked, his mind shifted back to the mission. "The van will be well guarded. It would be appropriate for you to ride in there."

"Fine. My, I haven't had this much excitement in decades. "Remember at the children's third birthday celebration when the snow collapsed the roof?"

He paused, counting back. In 1974 he'd been in Alaska. "Yes, when I was assigned to divert part of the pipeline for our use. There was a great deal of snow that year, small wonder that the roof couldn't take it," he said uncertainly.

Carla sighed. "Yes, it was. Well, I'll let you get back to your preparations." She turned and took a few steps towards the door, then paused. "By the way," she said, turning back to him.

Here it came, he thought with annoyance. The expected plea for lives.

"Had it occurred to you that there is a far less drastic solution to dealing with the security problem that Mark caused?"

"Such as?"

"What if I used a bit of drug therapy to change their memory of the location of this facility? It would be a simple matter; they are only sapiens, after all."

Lewis smiled. He decided he liked this about Carla. She did not decry a death without offering a logical alternative. And this would please Keridwen as well. "If you can do this, it will be acceptable. Otherwise, they will die."

"I'll see to it."

... ...

Keri ran up the stairs. Lewis had agreed on memory alteration for the biker's women. Not that they would actually be doing it, but he didn't have to know that until after she'd tried to fix whatever she'd screwed up in his head. Carla had confirmed that Lewis had no memories of Marjorie or the children other than their deaths. There had been no third birthday celebration or collapsed roof. Everyone had been snowed in. Keri would have to go back into Lewis' mind through the bond to find and release the missing memories, but that would have to wait until after the mission.

Because the biker's women would be here, Lewis had decided that she should go along after all. She'd wanted to go in the first place, but Lewis thought it would be too dangerous for her in spite of the advantage of having her there in case Dani showed up and could change things on the fly.

She opened the door to find Lewis down on the floor in one of those odd postures he favored. He had assured her they aided meditation, but they all looked terribly uncomfortable.

"I've laid clothing out for you on the bed," he said quietly.

"Okay." She changed quickly. They were scheduled to leave in less than half an hour. She had just tugged on her boots when he literally flowed to his feet. It was sexy as all hell, but it gave her the chills each time she saw it. The movement was one of the few things that reminded her just how inhuman he was. "Ready," she told him.

"Good. Do you have your weapon?"

"Yes, and a backup, and spare clips for both."

"Excellent."

"Lewis, thank you."

His eyebrows rose. "Death should always be the final solution."

ELSEWHERE

She had found the neat stack of proposals complete with a cover letter prioritizing them on her desk when she arrived to fit in some extra work time. Her Sunday's were usually sacrosanct, but the delays in this project were eating into her carefully plotted time frame.

Danielle frowned as she passed the lab on her way out. Caryn Townsend was there, and she was not scheduled to be on duty tonight. "Good evening, Dr. Townsend," she said. The woman looked up, her eyes were swollen and tears stained her cheeks. Danielle's expression grew colder. The woman was proving to be troublesome. A pity, she thought. She'd found the Behavioral Neuroscientist quite attractive.

"Ms. Ashton! I didn't know you were here," she said, her voice quavering.

"Obviously. The question is, Doctor, why are you here?"

Dr. Townsend flushed. "Well, the advanced studies begin tomorrow. And…well…considering the likely outcome I just thought it would be cruel to leave him alone with his thoughts."

Danielle's perfectly waxed eyebrow rose. "Are you going to swallow your tears and hold his hand all night?" she asked facetiously.

The younger woman's chin lifted. "If that's what he needs, yes."

"I suppose it's too late to warn you not to get too attached," she offered, her tone dry as she continued on her way. She smiled as the softly muttered word 'bitch' floated down the hall after her.

She stared out the window of her limo, watching the bland scenery whip by. One day this type of research would be able to be brought out into the open. Then she could lease decent condos within a reasonable commute of her facilities…or perhaps equip those facilities with helipads and then actually live at home for a change.

... ...

Danielle blinked and almost missed the strange sight of David Bowman's Ford heading in the opposite direction. She sat up, her intuition screaming at her. This was no coincidence. "Turn the car around," she ordered her driver. "We need to return to the lab." Her eyes narrowed as she pulled out her new cell phone. Perhaps Tom would have two human companions as control subjects during the advanced studies.