Part 9
"Once upon a time there was a planet called Antar and it was ruled by a king named Zan. Every king must have his queen and King Zan was no different; his queen's name was Ava. Rath was the king's second-in-command, his right hand, and he was engaged to the king's sister, Princess Vilandra. These four individuals were called the Royal Four." She snorted derisively as she paced, muttering the next words almost to herself. "Here on Earth it was to be revealed as an evil thing called Destiny."
Michael's eyebrows shot up in surprise when he heard the anger in her voice. He was beginning to suspect that he had a delusional lunatic on his hands and the anger in her voice as she spoke of a mythical place and extraterrestrial royalty only seemed to confirm his suspicions.
"Anyway," she said, collecting herself, "Antar had an enemy… a powerful and devious enemy named Khivar. It was decided that they should enter into peace talks with Khivar, but unknown to the king and his second-in-command, the princess had met Khivar and fallen in love with him. Their love story was the stuff legends are made of; she betrayed her brother, her fiancé, her entire planet… all for him, and it ended in a bloodbath."
Uh-huh, just as he suspected - she was certifiable. Michael rolled his eyes and wondered how she had gotten her science fiction and romance novels mixed up.
Maria went on with her tale, caught up in the retelling and oblivious to his disbelieving expression. "The Royal Four were killed and Antar fell into Khivar's hands, but thanks to the Queen Mother, or maybe the scientists, the essence… the souls, of the Royal Four, were somehow captured and injected into human-Antarian clones. My personal opinion is that it's more likely that there was some powerful, pain-in-the-ass alien that thought it was some sort of god or something - and was probably worshipped as such - that was quite possibly responsible for creating them." She shook her head and glanced at him. "Okay, that's personal conjecture because we never had any proof of that."
"We?" Michael widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. What she was saying was definitely interesting, but was there any possibility that there was some truth to it? "That would be you and who? The voices in your head?"
She frowned at him, easily hearing the mocking tone in his voice. "You didn't just appear on this planet, dumbass, and you can deny it all you want, but you're not completely human."
"No, I'm…" He tapped his chin thoughtfully with the forefinger of his right hand. "Who am I in this little fantasy world you've created? I'm the king and you're the queen?"
"What? No, you were Rath, the second-in-command, and I'm completely human, from right here on good old planet Earth." She could see that she had his attention once more, recognizing the look of intense concentration on his face as he debated the validity of her story. "Look, once the Royal Four had been cloned they were in danger so a plan was put into place to protect them until the time came for them to return to Antar. They were sent to a planet far away, accompanied by teachers and bodyguards, as well as the Granolith, a very mysterious object. But something happened on that fateful trip, something terrible, and their ship crash-landed here on Earth… the big crash in July 1947, in Roswell, New Mexico? You must've heard of it - you're not stupid or a fool, so I know you must've considered it."
"You're fuckin' insane," Michael muttered, starting to pace agitatedly. "You show up outta nowhere and start spoutin' a bunch of bullshit about me bein' a clone and havin' a past life and you expect me to believe it." She had obviously escaped from a mental institution or a psychiatric hospital somewhere, because there was no way this was possible.
"Look, the Royal Four were placed in some sort of incubation pods on the ship and after it crash-landed the survivors hid the pods in a cave along with the Granolith. We assume the survivors were captured because they never returned to the chamber and the pods remained there for years until they were ready to hatch."
Michael jumped on that. "Wait, there are others like me? Where are they?" Could they heal him and get rid of whatever illness he had come down with? He grabbed her roughly, his big hands wrapping around her upper arms and hauling her close to him. "Tell me where they are," he demanded.
Her expression quickly changed from surprised to sad and she wished she didn't have to be the one to tell him about the others. "They're all dead, Michael. Max and Isabel - the human names given to King Zan and Princess Vilandra - died in a car accident with their adoptive parents when they were nine years old. Tess - the human name given to Queen Ava - died in her pod… she never hatched." Not that she regretted that one.
"How do you know all that?" He shook her hard enough to rattle her teeth. "What's your role in all this?"
Maria sighed and took a deep breath before starting the next part of the story much as she had started the first part. "Once upon a time a young girl named Liz was shot in her father's restaurant called the Crashdown and she was healed by a young alien named Max Evans - "
"Wait! I thought you said he was dead?" Michael asked, confused. He remembered that shooting; the girl at the diner hadn't survived her wounds.
"Just listen for a few minutes, will you?" she asked impatiently. "From that moment on, their lives were in utter chaos; the F.B.I. maintains a Special Unit that hunts aliens and they captured Max and tortured him, Max - a future version of him - used the Granolith and came back because Earth, in his timeline, had fallen into Khivar's hands and he came back to prevent it from happening. Tess became the traitor and she killed a human named Alex by mind warping him to death so she could go back to Antar with Max's child, the heir to the throne. Her actions set things into motion and we were forced to go into hiding, to run from the U.S. Army and the F.B.I. Special Unit."
Michael shook his head, not understanding what she was telling him. First these people, or aliens, whatever, were dead and in her next breath she was telling him they were alive. Which was it?
"The Granolith, the object that was sent with the Royal Four, is capable of time travel, but it is also capable of travel through dimensions. The story I just told you, where we were on the run, is from another dimension." She stepped back out of his grasp that had loosened, looking him straight in the eye. "What I didn't tell you is that I came from that parallel universe and I was Michael's girlfriend. We've been together for the past five years…" She swallowed hard and reworded her statement. "We were together for the past five years, we were in love, and when he had no choice but to leave Roswell and everything he knew behind because he and the others were being hunted, I ran with him. We went through everything together… I was there when he got sick," she said, lost in the memories and missing the look of surprise that crossed his features. "I was there the first time he was forced to kill a man and he was so lost - "
"Weakling," Michael muttered under his breath. He wasn't expecting it when her open palm cracked against the side of his face and within the space of a heartbeat he had pinned her to the wall, his right hand curled around her throat. "Don't you ever do that again."
"Don't call him weak," she screamed, but the words came out on a gasping breath. "You have no idea what he went through." She reached up to rub her throat where his fingers had been pressing against her windpipe, choking her.
Michael took two steps back, staring at his hand as if it belonged to someone else.
"I was with him when he needed to escape from his abusive foster father… and I was with him when he took his last breath."
He took several more steps back, leaning against the nearest pew as he studied her. He was stunned by all of her revelations… clones, a planet called Antar, the Royal Four, the Granolith, time travel, other dimensions, a double and his girlfriend. He felt like he was in some sort of alternate reality or something and he was trapped there with some crazy girl who claimed to be from a parallel universe. There was no way this shit was for real; she was obviously off her medications… or, she had seen him use his powers and she had created this completely fictional world in her mind and she was starting to believe it.
Maria's eyes widened in shock when he stood up and silently walked out of the mission; the heavy door swung shut behind him as he stalked down the path to his motorcycle. She shoved the door open and ran after him, wondering why he hadn't said anything. That wasn't the reaction she had been expecting and she had to get to him before he had the chance to leave her there. "Michael, where're you going?" She grabbed his right arm with both hands, hanging on when he tried to shake her off. "You can't - "
Michael stopped mid-stride and turned back to look at her, dark eyes blazing as he glared at her. "I don't have time for chicks suffering from mental instabilities!" he shouted. "You're obviously deranged and you belong in an asylum somewhere." He shoved her away from him. "Get the fuck away from me!" He turned and started back towards the motorcycle. "I'm goin' home, havin' a cold drink, watchin' somethin' totally mind-numbing on TV, and you're gonna get lost."
Maria watched him, shocked. He wouldn't just walk away from her like that! She chased after him again when she realized that he was going to just leave her there, maneuvering so that she was in front of him, blocking his path. Before he had time to protest, she jumped up against him, wrapping her arms around his wide shoulders and kissing him. She forced her mind completely open, hoping that the flashes worked the same way in his universe as they worked in hers.
Michael was surprised by her actions and he didn't have time to put his mental walls up. Something in him forced him to let go, to let a connection that he didn't understand establish itself, and he allowed his arms to come around her so he could hold her against his body.
Confusing images, scenes that he couldn't recall, flashes of memory that weren't his, began to hit him hard and fast and he felt his heart rate triple. He could see himself, only it wasn't him… sleeping with this crazy girl… working together at the Crashdown - a place he had never set foot in, much less worked there… fighting in a car and her accusing him of kidnapping her… them arguing in a hotel room that really did look like a 'porno version of Aladdin'… her holding him while he cried… watching her sing in a bar or maybe it was a nightclub… him handing her some kind of project, a napkin holder… him clumsily learning how to dance and showing up at the prom just to make her smile… them making love…
Feelings and emotions that were unwanted and didn't belong to him assaulted him and he broke the kiss and shoved her away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He felt disoriented, his mind filled with thoughts, images, and memories that weren't his and he wanted her to take them back.
"Michael?" Maria watched him carefully, realizing too late that he hadn't experienced the flashes before today. She hadn't expected that and it was too late to take it back, but she wouldn't even if she could. He had to accept the truth before she could enlist his help for whatever purpose the Granolith had in mind when it had chosen to send her to a place where she would cross paths with this version of Michael.
He had to leave and he had to get away from her. She wasn't good for his sanity and she knew things that she shouldn't know about him. He needed to find peace and he needed to be alone before he would be able to do that.
"You can't just leave me here," Maria insisted when he moved around her, avoiding touching her. "This isn't my world and you're the only one I know here."
Michael threw his right leg over the seat and settled down as his thoughts ran rampantly through his mind. It didn't really matter whether what she said was true or not, if she started running her big mouth to others about him it could cause him a lot of trouble. He wasn't worried about her, he insisted silently. He just didn't want her giving away any information that could threaten his existence.
"Get on," he barked angrily. He gritted his teeth and his entire body tensed when she slid on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
An hour later he pulled up in front of Indigo's house, parking the motorcycle and dismounting before grabbing her arm and dragging her up the driveway behind him. The door opened as his booted feet stepped up on the porch and he felt relief wash over him when he saw the big man standing there.
"Indigo, buddy, I need a favor."
Indigo's gaze swept over the short blond trying to get free of the man's grasp. "What's up, Guerin?"
"I need a safe place to leave this wildcat for a while." He hauled her up onto the porch and shoved her towards the other man. "I'll be back for her later." He jogged back down the steps and practically ran to the motorcycle without another word.
The big man standing in the doorway held his right hand out, head cocked to one side as he waited to see if the young woman would take it. "Indigo Jeffries," he introduced himself when her much smaller hand slid into his.
"Maria DeLuca," she said, following him inside when he motioned towards the entrance.
"Guerin doesn't usually drop one of his jobs off at my door and I don't recall seein' him ever look as rattled as he did just now."
"One of his jobs?"
Now he was really confused. "You're not under his protection?"
"Under his protection?" Maria shook her head, wondering how she was going to be able to get information about Michael out of this man.
"Did I just hear Michael?"
Maria's head snapped around when she heard a perky feminine voice speak up from behind Indigo. She hadn't considered that Michael might be involved with someone else in this universe.
Indigo turned to look at Cindy; the woman that had shown up earlier that afternoon with his ladies, hoping for another round of sex with Michael. He felt Maria tense up when she got a good look at the big-chested, blue-eyed, platinum-blond woman that obviously didn't know when to shut up.
"Did you come to get a piece of Michael too?" she asked, directing the question to Maria. "His dick must be legendary; I'm telling you, that man knows how to fuck." She continued to rave to the woman next to her, oblivious to the angry, red flush that was creeping up into her face. "He's got stamina you wouldn't believe; I lost count of how many orgasms I had."
Maria stood frozen, horrified when Cindy started going into great detail and she realized that the only option was to shut her up. That was the last straw, she thought as the woman continued to ramble on about how great sex with Michael was.
Indigo wasn't expecting it when the little blond launched herself at Cindy, getting a handful of the woman's off-the-shoulder blouse and turning it into a piece of shredded material before he could grab her. The two women landed on the floor and he just barely intercepted Maria's fist before it connected with the loud-mouthed blonde's nose. It took a considerable effort to pull Maria away from Cindy before she could do serious damage. "Okay, why don't we take this to the gym," he suggested, nodding at one of his ladies when she heard the commotion and came running inside. He was struggling to hold onto the irate woman as he backed out of the room, shouting instructions to be heard over her screaming.
He didn't release her until they were inside the gym and he turned to set the electronic locks he had installed so she couldn't get out until he was sure his orders had been followed and the women had cleared out. For the moment she was surprisingly silent, but he quickly realized she was studying the keypad next to the door, eyes narrowed as she tried to decipher the complex symbols on the keys. While she was otherwise occupied he crossed the room and grabbed a pair of boxing gloves, holding them out to her when he joined her once more. "Put these on."
"What?"
"You've got some serious anger issues, and I think we can avoid any further violence if you just focus it right there." He turned to point at the heavy bag suspended from four short chains that were attached to a hook anchored in one of the exposed ceiling beams in the center of the room.
"I do not have anger issues," she spat angrily as she rounded on him.
"Hey, one-handed man here," he joked, holding his arms up in surrender. "Obviously you an' Guerin have history, otherwise I can't imagine that you would've gone on the attack like that." He reached out to help her tie the laces up on the gloves and walked her over to the heavy bag, moving to one side to hold it still while she took a swing at it.
Picturing the perky blonde's face while punching the heavy bag was actually very cathartic, and Maria quickly fell into a rhythm. She forgot about the man Michael had dumped her on in favor of letting her thoughts loose and hitting the bag as hard as she could. This Michael was obviously different from hers, he wasn't her Michael, but despite that she didn't want him to be with another woman. It wasn't acceptable in any way, shape, or form; any woman was a threat and would be perceived as a rival.
Indigo grunted when she hit the bag particularly hard and he took a step back to maintain his balance. He was intrigued by this small woman and he wondered what Michael's relationship with her was, because it was obvious that she wasn't one of his jobs. Not to mention her earlier confusion when he had asked her about that very thing had pretty much confirmed that.
"So, why don't you tell me about yourself," Indigo said when she finally started to wind down. Maybe he could get some information about his mysterious friend from her. "Or we could talk about Guerin."
"Michael and I…" She smiled and shook her head when she noticed how intent his expression was. "Our pasts are connected; it's kinda complicated."
"It must've been quite a while since you've seen each other," he said, hoping to get something out of her. "He didn't seem too happy about you showin' up." He winced. "Sorry, that was kinda blunt."
Maria smiled up at the big man as she held her right hand out for him to untie the glove. "It was blunt, but, considering I came into your home and basically started a fight I guess it's okay. And to answer your question, no, he's not too happy to see me."
"So, what, you guys were together at some point, the relationship went south, and you had a bad breakup or somethin'?"
"Or something. I guess he still doesn't like to talk about his past?"
Indigo snapped his fingers and nodded. "The orphanage, right? That's how you guys know each other, it has to be! Relationship," he snorted. "I shoulda known better than to suggest that; Guerin doesn't do long-term. Hell, I don't think one-night stands even qualify as short-term, so you couldn't have been in a relationship. It's the orphanage, right?" He shook his head when she just smiled, confident that he had solved the puzzle of her relationship with Michael. "You hungry?"
The question was completely out of left field. "What?"
"Hungry, y'know, I fix food and we eat?"
"Oh, well, you have company, and I know Michael dumping me off on your doorstep was completely unexpected so I certainly don't want you to - "
"Wow, you talk a lot." He grinned, a wide and toothy grin. "Boy, that's gotta drive Guerin right up the wall! Don't worry about my company; I told one of my ladies I needed the place emptied out while you were busy screamin' at Cindy." He unlocked the door and motioned for her to follow him. "Hey, you like Italian food?"
"I love Italian food," Maria said, laughing when her stomach rumbled in anticipation of eating. She hadn't realized how long it had been since her last meal and she was very hungry. "You cook?"
"Uh-huh. Served a couple of tours in Italy a few years back and I learned how to cook from a woman I was involved with while I was there. Their food's amazing, isn't it?"
"Um-hmm." She looked around the huge kitchen, sitting on one of the high-backed barstools at the large island at the center of the room when he shooed her in that direction on his way to the stainless steel refrigerator. "So, if you served a couple of tours in Italy then you must be military?"
Indigo chuckled. "Close enough. The Company recruits young people with troubled pasts and gives them an opportunity to work off their debt to society and/or turn their lives in the right direction before they've gone too far and end up in prison." He pulled several covered dishes out and placed them on the counter and moved to a cabinet to retrieve a couple of baking dishes. He turned the oven on when he passed it on his way back to the island.
"I don't suppose you can tell me how Michael was recruited?"
"It's been a long time since you've seen him, huh?" He chuckled as he moved the food from the containers he had taken from the refrigerator to the baking dish and slid it into the oven. "Unlike most of us, Guerin hadn't committed any hard crimes when he was recruited; he was involved in a lot of minor shit, but he had the type of attitude and personality the Company is always lookin' for. I had already been in for several years when he was recruited," he said as he went back to the refrigerator and searched for the ingredients for a Caesar salad. "Kid was seventeen, arrogant, pissed off about anything and everything, and a total loner, but he adapted to the Company right from the start."
"Seventeen?" Maria was horrified by that information; there was no such group in her universe. How had Michael gotten involved with a military group? "How long was he in the Company?"
"Right at seven years, I think." He glanced down at his left hand and mentally calculated the months. "Yeah, that's about right; he served another year after I lost the hand and then he went to work for a private company."
Somehow, Maria felt a great sense of relief when she learned that Michael was no longer employed by the Company. "So, he's like, a bodyguard?"
"Yeah. There's the occasional job for the Company that crops up since the guy he contracts out to still has connections with the old man who runs things."
Maria ran the numbers in her head, surprised to realize that this Michael was twenty-five years old. He must have hatched earlier than in her universe. "Did you serve together in Italy?"
"Huh-uh. Most of our tours were in Africa, but there were a few odd ones in other countries. We spent time in Kuwait, Cuba, and El Salvador." He held his left arm up, nodding at the claw. "Lost the hand in an explosion in Cuba and that pretty much ended my time with the company; an explosives expert who's missin' a hand doesn't inspire a lot of confidence, y'know?"
"Were you disarming a bomb?"
"Yep." He grabbed a hand towel and pulled the hot dish out of the oven, sliding it on the stove. He grabbed the second dish and checked the time as he placed it on the rack in the center of the oven. "It was too late to disarm the fuckin' thing, but I was sure I could do it. Called that one wrong."
This whole discussion was making Maria ill-at-ease. She had always known that Michael was the soldier in the group, but in her universe he had been able to separate that part of himself, only letting it out when it was needed. Here, in this universe, this Michael had totally embraced that darker side of his nature, entering into a career that had only strengthened those instincts with no hesitation. It was becoming painfully clear that here he was probably closer to the original Rath than he was to her Michael. "Is that what Michael did?"
"What? Explosives expert?"
"Yeah."
"No, Guerin is a highly-trained weapons expert; bastard can take a target out at a thousand yards."
Maria was appalled at the picture this man was painting of Michael. "He was a sniper?"
"Still is, if and when the job calls for it." He moved to the cabinets next to the refrigerator and pulled down a couple of dinner plates and carried them to the stove. Placing them on the counter he filled them with the food he had heated then pulled the baking dish from the oven and added garlic bread to the plates. "Hope you like chicken parmesan," he said as he placed the plates on the island and pulled one of the stools out to join Maria. "It's all homemade; made it last night, but I was flyin' solo, so there were plenty of leftovers." He leaned forward to tap a clear glass bottle that he had gotten from the refrigerator. "Salad dressin', also homemade," he bragged unabashedly.