Jennifer Armentrout: Obsession

My laugh earned me hard looks from both officers. “I think I have this figured out.

The DOD is pissed because the senator is going to do something without their permission. And you guys can’t just shut down the senator, because it’s election year and his ‘disappearance’ would raise way too many questions.”

Neither of the officers said a word.

I snickered. “I’ve told you all before. You think the Luxen are manageable because they’re purdy when they glow, but they are going to mow right over the human race.”

“Shut up, Hunter,” growled Zombro.

I moved so quickly that Zombro jerked back, but he wasn’t fast enough. Grabbing the officer by the collar of his shirt, I got right in his face. “Tell me to shut up one more time and I’m going to rip out your tongue and make you eat it. Got that?”

Zombro went for the gun, and I tightened my grip. “I wouldn’t think about doing that, buddy.”

“All right, guys, that’s enough.” Richards was sweating. “We’re all on the same team.”

Holding Zombro’s wide stare for a few more moments, I slowly released the officer and swung a look at Richards. “We are not on the same team.”

“Okay.” Richards held up his hands. “But we have to work together.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. Thrumming my fingers on the table, I forced my body to take a breath and let it out slowly. I wanted to eat Zombro. “There’s more to this, isn’t there?”

Richards glanced at Zombro before speaking. “During her police interview, Miss Cross relayed some information that the Daedalus is concerned about. Some key words that they are not familiar with.”

I knocked a wave of black hair off my forehead. “And that would be?”

“She mentioned something to do with Project Eagle.” Richards paused. “The Daedalus would like to know what this is.”

“So ask her.”

Zombro rubbed his temple. “Miss Cross doesn’t remember right now, but there’s a chance she does know more, and that whatever this is, it may be why the senator wants her silenced so badly.”

A muscle began to tick in my jaw. So the mystery deepened. Problem was, I didn’t give a fuck. “For the last time, what does this have to do with me?”

“We need you to see if you can get the information out of her , and watch over Miss Cross.”

I blinked. “Come again?”

Crimson swept across Zombro’s pitted face. “I don’t think Richards stuttered. We need you to watch over Miss Cross. Who else better to protect her against a Luxen than an Arum? You were practically bred to fight them.”

True, but what the hell were they thinking? “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Richards slid a slip of paper across the table. It contained a hastily scribbled address.

I didn’t want to even touch it. “This is your job. Right now we believe they are unaware of where she lives, but it’s only a matter of time before they find her.”

I barked out a short laugh. “My job is not to babysit humans.”

Zombro smirked, and I wanted to knock it off his face. “It is now.”

It took every ounce of my self-control to not throw Zombro through a wall. “I am the last thing on this Earth you should be saddling with this.”

“It’s either you, or Miss Cross dies,” Richards reasoned plaintively. “When the Luxen come after her—”

“You won’t be able to stop them,” I spat, more pissed off than I remembered being in a long time. “This is your problem.”

“It’s now your problem,” Zombro said.

Man, I was going to kill that guy one day and fucking savor it.

Richards glanced at his partner nervously. “I know this is not typically something we’d ask you to do, but this is what we’re asking.” He paused. “It’s a life-or-death situation.”

“Not to burst your preconceived notions of me, but do I look like I care?”

Zombro let out a rich curse. “You’re going to start caring, because contrary to popular belief, the DOD is and always will be behind the safety of humans, and not extraterrestrial life-forms. And if we can find out what Miss Cross knows and convince her to remain quiet, then we shall try that first.”

Well, someone forgot to inform the Daedalus of that, because they seemed to have no problem giving humans a cement swim.

Shit. I was not happy about this. There wasn’t a patient bone in my body and the only reason I was ever around a woman was to sate a primal hunger. I didn’t watch over them. I didn’t protect them. It wasn’t in my nature, and the officers knew that. I wasn’t the good guy here.

There was a good chance I’d kill Miss Cross.

Three days passed in what felt like a thick fog. The first day was spent crying in bed, and I hadn’t cried like that since I lost my mother. When I finally did drag myself out of bed, I found an old cell phone stashed in my closet. The one I had with me that night never booted back up. I knew it had been due to the electrical charge that had rippled through the garage. It had fried my phone, and I wondered if it had done the same to the computer in my car.

The school had given me the rest of the week off. Principal Harrison had already heard what happened by the time I’d called Tuesday morning. I’d called Mel’s mom.

Talking to her had hurt deep. Mel’s mom was inconsolable. The two had their moments, like any mother and daughter, but the woman’s heart had been broken.

When I’d hung up, I was sure my swollen eyes couldn’t shed any more tears, but I was wrong. I hadn’t told Mel’s mom what I had seen or what Mel had told me. At that moment, it didn’t seem like the right thing to do.

Local news had spotty information on the explosion. Was it a freak accident? A terrorist attack? A hit on Mel? The latter was difficult to believe, and even I found it hard to swallow, but I had been there. I had known how scared Mel had been and I had seen that…that thing take out her car. There had been no mention of the senator’s sons or what I had told the police.

On Wednesday, I found myself looking through old albums of Mel and I. The pictures made me smile. And cry again. The photos of us in high school together were pretty telling. Mel had grown into this tall reed—runway model thin—and her blue eyes were vibrant against her tan skin and dark hair. She was absolutely stunning with her megawatt smile, and when we’d been teenagers, she had entertained the idea of modeling. She could’ve done it.

The pictures of me weren’t as glamorous. I’d stopped growing in the ninth grade, something Mel had always teased me about. My blond hair was long and wavy in a perpetually messy way. Where Mel had a flawless complexion and a rocking body, in high school I had freckles and hips that came out of nowhere.

Flipping through the pictures had eased some of the pressure in my chest. Mel wouldn’t be forgotten. I had my memories, but would there ever be justice for her? I doubted it. What had happened seemed like something straight out of a science fiction movie. Even if my eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on me, if the senator’s sons were behind what happened to Mel, I knew it would be swept under the rug. Who was Mel compared to the political elite? Anger festered inside me like a rotten wound, had me replaying the events over and over again.

On Thursday I received a brief call letting me know I could retrieve my car, but there was no other news as to who was responsible. No more questions. Silence. I didn’t know what to think about that.

After calling a cab, I changed into a pair of jeans and a shirt. Knots formed in my belly as I climbed into the back of the taxi. When I gave him instructions to the garage, my voice shook. A huge part of me didn’t want to go back there, but it wasn’t like I could buy a new car.