Hybrid Zone Revelation, page 12
“Come in,” I panted when she rang.
“You have to open the door,” she called back.
Doubling over in laughter, I screeched, “I don’t know how.”
“Push the top of the keypad on your side. The one with the word “open” written on it!” she yelled through the door.
Staggering to the door, I pushed the prescribed button. The door whooshed open to reveal an irritated Miranda, which only made me laugh more.
She looked me up and down as I tried to remain standing. “It’s worse than I thought,” she grumbled, shaking her head in consternation. “Meeting the big boys in the state of silly tired will not go over well.”
She led me over to the couch and shoved me into the cushions. Taking a seat opposite me, she remained quiet while I tried to regain control. After a long few minutes, I drew in a ragged breath. Miranda regarded me warily as I calmed, like I might revert at any moment, which, granted, was a possibility.
“Laughter’s good for the soul,” I told her knowingly.
“And stomach muscles,” she sighed, looking longingly at her stomach, which was completely hidden by the layers of cotton she wore.
“What are you wearing?” I asked her.
“I believe they are called warm ups. Duh.”
“I know what they’re called,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Why are you wearing them? You never wear sweats.”
“I do now.” She huffed and looked down again. “I think I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.
Oh. That was not funny. I pushed myself upright. “Think as in possibility or certainty?”
“I’m late. I’m never late.” She smoothed down her top. “Jamie says it’s certain.”
“How does he know?”
“Apparently, I smell different.”
Without thinking, I leaned over to sniff her.
“Don’t you dare,” she hissed at me.
Geesh. I see the mood swings had already set in. “Okay,” I drawled and moved away. What was the big deal? She was barely, maybe, one week pregnant. How different could she smell? By the look on her face, different enough. “Are you okay with being pregnant? Cause you don’t look okay.”
She pinched her mouth, drawing her whole face to one side. “I don’t know. Timing kind of sucks. And, I’m not really the motherly type.”
“Nonsense. You take great care of me. You’ll be an awesome mom.”
She folded her hands in her lap, not looking the least bit reassured.
“Are you worried about the unwed mother thing? I know you have always railed against that. But Miranda, seriously, none of us are going to judge you for that.”
She wouldn’t look at me, and I knew her hands were not that interesting.
“Miranda, c’mon—”
“I’m not worried about that,” she spit out quickly.
I held the breath I’d taken. Why wasn’t she worried about that? In the past, contrary to the rest of her morals, she had taken a very dim view of unwed mothers. I could never quite wrap my head around the contradiction. Now the one eighty?
“Actually—” she said, wringing her hands together and doing her best to avoid my eyes.
“What!” I yelled in sudden understanding.
“I was going to tell you, but then you went and got all kidnapped—”
“You got married!” I yelled as I stood up.
“At the house in New Orleans,” she nodded, her voice almost a whisper.
“Without me!” I could not believe she would leave me out of this. I thought we were family. I considered her a sister.
“Look!” she yelled back. “For once in my life, I wanted to do something right. Jamie is right—”
“How could you possibly know that Jamie is right? You just met him!”
“Do you know that Adam is right?” she charged.
I swallowed my next comment. “That’s not fair,” I choked, pointing my finger at her. I’d at least taken what? Five, six days? Was that all it really was? But I wasn’t married to him. But if he asked? I pressed my hands to my eyes.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” she said gruffly.
Spinning away from her, I swiped angrily at the tears on my face. Then the realization of what she’d said hit me. Turning back to her, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Are you telling me that you married him before close encounters of the blue satin sheets?” I waited for her answer with upraised eyebrows and doubt clearly written on my face.
“That’s what I’m telling you,” she replied through clenched teeth.
“You just went off and married him on that first night?”
“No, the second or third, I don’t know which one it was,” she said in frustration. “The morning you called me after you were kidnapped, that was the morning after we got married. You know our neighbors, Ezra and Hazel? They’re priests.”
“Of what church?” I asked, flinging my arms wide in disbelief. “And when did you even find time to do this?”
“It doesn’t take long to say I do,” she snapped angrily. “I don’t know what church. Universal something or another. Anyway, the point is we are married now, and that’s all there is to it.” She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and stared straight ahead. “And, I’m going to have a baby.”
Oh, is that all, I wanted to reply. I was so mad and hurt. How could she go and get married when she didn’t even know where I was? Did I matter so little to her? I didn’t understand how she could do this to me?
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said quietly. “But this is not something I did against you. It’s something I did for me. There’s a difference.”
I rolled the words over in my head. Putting herself first was allowed, I guess. But it still hurt. To exclude me from the wedding meant she wanted to be with him more than she wanted to wait for me. Now, a baby? Someone else who would come before me. In the back of my mind, I always knew this day was coming. And I was prepared to step aside, eventually, one day. But I didn’t expect it to be today, and I certainly didn’t expect it to be like this. It was like she was slipping away right in front of my eyes, the end of M&M.
She remained silent while I stewed in my emotions, and she hadn’t changed positions either. The way she was holding herself looked like she was trying to shield herself from me. My stomach rolled over in regret. Sisters shouldn’t have to protect themselves from one another. So she got married without me. It wasn’t like she cut me out of her life. She was allowed to love other people. I wasn’t that selfish.
Forcing my hands to my sides, I walked back to the couch and plopped down. After a moment, I said, “Did you know that I am a shape shifting, time travelling mutant?”
From the corner of my eye, I saw her relax into the couch.
“That’s a mouthful,” she said. “You should shorten it to S H T T.”
“I’m a shtt?” I said, cutting my eyes her direction. “Really?”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” she exhaled.
“Well,” I sighed. “I suppose I’ve been called worse.”
A good five minutes passed before I spoke again. “I notice you’re not wearing a ring,” I told her.
“We haven’t had time to get any. And, I haven’t much felt like looking for any.”
“Queasy?”
“Unbelievably so.”
“And you are wearing the sweats because…?”
“I can’t fit into my other clothes.”
I looked at her stomach and then her eyes. I wasn’t sure what she was seeing because I couldn’t tell any difference. “Estimated gestation?”
“We’re not sure. Human is nine months, wolf is a little over two. We figure somewhere in between. Leaning more towards human though.”
“Has no one ever had hybrid babies around here?” I asked.
“No. We will be the first.”
I looked at her doubtfully.
“It’s true,” she said, nodding her head emphatically. “M&M has caused a wave of rebellion to sweep over the Organization.”
My heart softened at her reference to M&M. Maybe it wasn’t totally dissolved, only evolved. Yeah, I liked that a lot better. A wave of rebellion, she said. Huh?
“I am prone to wild and unruly behavior,” I said knowingly.
“Well, who isn’t?” she agreed.
“Organizational people with an affinity for rules.” I curled my lip as I said it. She met my eyes with the same disgusted look. I knew who we were both thinking of.
“At the Colony, gestation varied wildly. But none of them encompassed nanobots. It was only after birth they were given them, right?” I looked at her for confirmation.
“I really don’t know. I’ll check with Jamie.”
“Having the nanobots could really speed up the process,” I mused. Having nausea in the first week seemed extreme to me. But, then again, I’d never been pregnant.
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Even less time to prepare.”
I scooted over next to her and laid my head on her shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay. You’re not alone. You have me and Cedars. Margaret, too. Does she know?”
“Not yet. We haven’t told anyone. Jamie doesn’t think I’ll be able to camouflage the smell much longer. Or the stomach.”
“I don’t know what you’re going on about. You look as skinny as ever.” Bringing both hands up, I covered the yawn that engulfed me. “There’s really never been any other hybrid kids?”
“Nope.”
“Then there is more at work here than nature.”
“That’s what Jamie said.”
Rolling away from her, I stretched out on the couch. “Does he have any proof?” I asked as I pulled a throw pillow under my head.
“His nanobots had built in birth control,” she nodded. “Unbeknownst to him, I might add. Jamie reversed it.”
“Without telling you?”
“This was before me. He found out by accident…it’s a long story.”
“What about Adam?”
“You’ve slept with Adam?” she cried in surprise.
“No,” I corrected her quickly. “Just wondering. For the future. If Cedars was…blocked…then the rest of the guys probably are too.”
“Well, I cannot attest to Adam’s virility. You’ll have to ask him yourself.”
Closing my eyes, I imagined how that conversation might go. A smile ghosted on my lips when I pictured his response. Now, I was definitely going to ask him about his fertility, if for no other reason than to see the look on his face when I did.
Chapter 7
Bars dissected my view. They belonged to the cell surrounding me. I had a blanket, but it wasn’t protection against the cold that seemed to come from within. Everything in me wanted to fight, to escape from this place, but the cold wouldn’t allow it. It was as if my body didn’t belong to me. Suddenly, I realized, in that detached dream sort of way, that it wasn’t my body. What I perceived as a blanket was actually fur. I was seeing through Adam’s eyes, and he was entirely a leopard.
“Good, Kitty,” the man in the surgical mask sneered, drawing my attention past the confines of the cell. “You’re right on schedule.”
Panic overwhelmed me as the man picked up a syringe. I wanted to lunge at the bars, to grasp the tender flesh at his neck between my teeth, but I was paralyzed by the cold. Or rather, Adam was. The stark realization that Adam wasn’t going to be able to stop what was about to happen to him drove fear into my heart. It was followed by an anger deeper than anything I’d ever felt before. Welling up inside me, it crashed in a wave of despair as the man turned towards the cell.
Adam, I moaned, trying to shut out the image before me.
Macy?
Adam sounded so disconnected from himself, like he’d already given up.
You can’t give up. I’m going to find you.
Macy?
His voice was stronger this time. Hold on, I urged, pouring all the strength I could into him.
“Macy.”
Adam was fading.
“Macy.”
“Go away,” I whimpered. I was with Adam.
“I’m sorry, Macy, but it’s time to go.”
Opening one eye, I squinted spitefully at Miranda.
“Don’t look at me like that. I let you sleep as long as I could.”
I rolled onto my back and stared helplessly at the ceiling. “I was with Adam.”
She sat down on the couch near my feet. “How’s he doing?” she asked, gently wrapping one ankle with her hand.
“He’s completely shifted.”
“Full-fledged leopard?”
“He’s in a cell,” I nodded. “And he’s so cold. He can’t function.” I sat up and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. Crying wasn’t going to save Adam.
“We’re gonna get him back,” she said, gently squeezing my ankle.
“When?” I demanded angrily. “Why do I have to waste my time meeting with the president? What does talking to the stupid president have anything to do with finding Adam?”
Quirking her eyebrow at me, she repeated, “Stupid president?”
“Well, I don’t know,” I snapped. Shoving my hair behind my ears in frustration, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I haven’t really been paying that much attention the last few years. And that doesn’t answer my question.”
She removed the hand on my foot, and clasping both her hands together, set them in her lap. “Would Adam meet with the president to explain the situation?” she asked quietly.
He probably would. I couldn’t picture him shying away from anything. But that was not an answer either.
“If you ignore the president and what Adam wanted in appointing you to speak to him, and then the relationship with the government sours, how are you going to justify that to Adam? Because, correct me if I’m wrong, but you are planning on retrieving Adam, right?”
Refusing to answer the ridiculousness that was that question, I skewered her with my scowl instead.
“And maybe you can find Adam on your own,” she continued, completely unaffected by my glare. “Maybe, you don’t need the Organization at all, but I’m betting Adam does.”
Crap, I thought as my scowl faded. She was right. He actually might need it now more than ever. “When do I leave?” I asked weakly.
“Half an hour. I tried to leave you enough time to at least shower.” Then she reared back and looked at me. “And to do something with that hair. Why don’t you get it cut?”
This was about the thousandth time she’d said that to me since we’d known each other. And this was the thousandth time I’d answered her the same way. “I don’t do short hair.”
“Maybe not, but your long hair is doing a number on you,” she replied sarcastically.
Again, I chose not to respond to her.
“Do I have any clothes,” I asked as I scooted from the couch and headed for the shower.
“I’ll get you some,” she called. “You need to hurry. You’re down to twenty-six minutes.”
“Right, what are they going to do? Leave without me?” I muttered. I’d actually welcome that.
The relaxation normally included with a hot shower was lost on me. I barely felt the water as I wondered what the heck I was going to say to the president. I tried to imagine what questions he might ask. What I would ask if I were the president. How was I going to explain New Orleans? If I told him there was a rogue hybrid on the loose with the plan that Millsap had, he might round all of us up. If I feigned ignorance, he might conclude that the Organization was no longer useful. Either way was littered with pitfalls. In the end, I was too tired and too rattled by my time as Adam or in Adam to think clearly. I would just have to hope that my brain would come up with something when it was time.
I found the clothes that Miranda left for me on the bed. They were not my usual jeans and t-shirt, but it was the president I was meeting. I pulled on the skirt and slipped the blouse over my head. When I leaned back to pick up the jacket, the smell of Adam arrested me. Forgetting about the jacket, I moved on all fours, tracking his scent across the bed to his pillow. Sitting back on my knees, I picked up the pillow and buried my nose in it. Adam flooded all of my senses.
Miranda’s cough alerted me to her return. Not ready to let go of Adam just yet, I turned my face sideways against the pillow to look at her. Her eyes were brimming with tears.
She hurriedly laid my rescued black leather boots on the bed next to me. “Sorry,” she apologized while fanning her face with her hands. “Hormones.”
As she retreated a few paces, I pressed my face into the pillow again and breathed in. Though the scent was strong, it was no substitute for the real thing. Adam wasn’t here. I placed the pillow back on the bed, my fingers trailing across its face as I pulled my hand away. Then intentionally shifting my focus to the boots, I picked them up.
“They look pretty good,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Juarez fixed them.”
“Juarez?” I sniffed.
“Apparently, leather working is a hobby of his.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her frown in worry, but she didn’t comment on the source. We were both doing our best to ignore the tears streaming down my face.
Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I leaned over and pulled on the boots. Not wanting a repeat of what happened the first time, I stood and walked around the bed to collect the jacket.
“Do you have any idea of what you’re going to say?” Miranda asked as she followed me out of the room.
“Not particularly.” I slipped the jacket on, then plucked a tissue from the desk and wiped my face free of tears. “Any suggestions?”
“You have to open the door,” she called back.
Doubling over in laughter, I screeched, “I don’t know how.”
“Push the top of the keypad on your side. The one with the word “open” written on it!” she yelled through the door.
Staggering to the door, I pushed the prescribed button. The door whooshed open to reveal an irritated Miranda, which only made me laugh more.
She looked me up and down as I tried to remain standing. “It’s worse than I thought,” she grumbled, shaking her head in consternation. “Meeting the big boys in the state of silly tired will not go over well.”
She led me over to the couch and shoved me into the cushions. Taking a seat opposite me, she remained quiet while I tried to regain control. After a long few minutes, I drew in a ragged breath. Miranda regarded me warily as I calmed, like I might revert at any moment, which, granted, was a possibility.
“Laughter’s good for the soul,” I told her knowingly.
“And stomach muscles,” she sighed, looking longingly at her stomach, which was completely hidden by the layers of cotton she wore.
“What are you wearing?” I asked her.
“I believe they are called warm ups. Duh.”
“I know what they’re called,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Why are you wearing them? You never wear sweats.”
“I do now.” She huffed and looked down again. “I think I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.
Oh. That was not funny. I pushed myself upright. “Think as in possibility or certainty?”
“I’m late. I’m never late.” She smoothed down her top. “Jamie says it’s certain.”
“How does he know?”
“Apparently, I smell different.”
Without thinking, I leaned over to sniff her.
“Don’t you dare,” she hissed at me.
Geesh. I see the mood swings had already set in. “Okay,” I drawled and moved away. What was the big deal? She was barely, maybe, one week pregnant. How different could she smell? By the look on her face, different enough. “Are you okay with being pregnant? Cause you don’t look okay.”
She pinched her mouth, drawing her whole face to one side. “I don’t know. Timing kind of sucks. And, I’m not really the motherly type.”
“Nonsense. You take great care of me. You’ll be an awesome mom.”
She folded her hands in her lap, not looking the least bit reassured.
“Are you worried about the unwed mother thing? I know you have always railed against that. But Miranda, seriously, none of us are going to judge you for that.”
She wouldn’t look at me, and I knew her hands were not that interesting.
“Miranda, c’mon—”
“I’m not worried about that,” she spit out quickly.
I held the breath I’d taken. Why wasn’t she worried about that? In the past, contrary to the rest of her morals, she had taken a very dim view of unwed mothers. I could never quite wrap my head around the contradiction. Now the one eighty?
“Actually—” she said, wringing her hands together and doing her best to avoid my eyes.
“What!” I yelled in sudden understanding.
“I was going to tell you, but then you went and got all kidnapped—”
“You got married!” I yelled as I stood up.
“At the house in New Orleans,” she nodded, her voice almost a whisper.
“Without me!” I could not believe she would leave me out of this. I thought we were family. I considered her a sister.
“Look!” she yelled back. “For once in my life, I wanted to do something right. Jamie is right—”
“How could you possibly know that Jamie is right? You just met him!”
“Do you know that Adam is right?” she charged.
I swallowed my next comment. “That’s not fair,” I choked, pointing my finger at her. I’d at least taken what? Five, six days? Was that all it really was? But I wasn’t married to him. But if he asked? I pressed my hands to my eyes.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” she said gruffly.
Spinning away from her, I swiped angrily at the tears on my face. Then the realization of what she’d said hit me. Turning back to her, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Are you telling me that you married him before close encounters of the blue satin sheets?” I waited for her answer with upraised eyebrows and doubt clearly written on my face.
“That’s what I’m telling you,” she replied through clenched teeth.
“You just went off and married him on that first night?”
“No, the second or third, I don’t know which one it was,” she said in frustration. “The morning you called me after you were kidnapped, that was the morning after we got married. You know our neighbors, Ezra and Hazel? They’re priests.”
“Of what church?” I asked, flinging my arms wide in disbelief. “And when did you even find time to do this?”
“It doesn’t take long to say I do,” she snapped angrily. “I don’t know what church. Universal something or another. Anyway, the point is we are married now, and that’s all there is to it.” She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and stared straight ahead. “And, I’m going to have a baby.”
Oh, is that all, I wanted to reply. I was so mad and hurt. How could she go and get married when she didn’t even know where I was? Did I matter so little to her? I didn’t understand how she could do this to me?
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said quietly. “But this is not something I did against you. It’s something I did for me. There’s a difference.”
I rolled the words over in my head. Putting herself first was allowed, I guess. But it still hurt. To exclude me from the wedding meant she wanted to be with him more than she wanted to wait for me. Now, a baby? Someone else who would come before me. In the back of my mind, I always knew this day was coming. And I was prepared to step aside, eventually, one day. But I didn’t expect it to be today, and I certainly didn’t expect it to be like this. It was like she was slipping away right in front of my eyes, the end of M&M.
She remained silent while I stewed in my emotions, and she hadn’t changed positions either. The way she was holding herself looked like she was trying to shield herself from me. My stomach rolled over in regret. Sisters shouldn’t have to protect themselves from one another. So she got married without me. It wasn’t like she cut me out of her life. She was allowed to love other people. I wasn’t that selfish.
Forcing my hands to my sides, I walked back to the couch and plopped down. After a moment, I said, “Did you know that I am a shape shifting, time travelling mutant?”
From the corner of my eye, I saw her relax into the couch.
“That’s a mouthful,” she said. “You should shorten it to S H T T.”
“I’m a shtt?” I said, cutting my eyes her direction. “Really?”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” she exhaled.
“Well,” I sighed. “I suppose I’ve been called worse.”
A good five minutes passed before I spoke again. “I notice you’re not wearing a ring,” I told her.
“We haven’t had time to get any. And, I haven’t much felt like looking for any.”
“Queasy?”
“Unbelievably so.”
“And you are wearing the sweats because…?”
“I can’t fit into my other clothes.”
I looked at her stomach and then her eyes. I wasn’t sure what she was seeing because I couldn’t tell any difference. “Estimated gestation?”
“We’re not sure. Human is nine months, wolf is a little over two. We figure somewhere in between. Leaning more towards human though.”
“Has no one ever had hybrid babies around here?” I asked.
“No. We will be the first.”
I looked at her doubtfully.
“It’s true,” she said, nodding her head emphatically. “M&M has caused a wave of rebellion to sweep over the Organization.”
My heart softened at her reference to M&M. Maybe it wasn’t totally dissolved, only evolved. Yeah, I liked that a lot better. A wave of rebellion, she said. Huh?
“I am prone to wild and unruly behavior,” I said knowingly.
“Well, who isn’t?” she agreed.
“Organizational people with an affinity for rules.” I curled my lip as I said it. She met my eyes with the same disgusted look. I knew who we were both thinking of.
“At the Colony, gestation varied wildly. But none of them encompassed nanobots. It was only after birth they were given them, right?” I looked at her for confirmation.
“I really don’t know. I’ll check with Jamie.”
“Having the nanobots could really speed up the process,” I mused. Having nausea in the first week seemed extreme to me. But, then again, I’d never been pregnant.
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Even less time to prepare.”
I scooted over next to her and laid my head on her shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay. You’re not alone. You have me and Cedars. Margaret, too. Does she know?”
“Not yet. We haven’t told anyone. Jamie doesn’t think I’ll be able to camouflage the smell much longer. Or the stomach.”
“I don’t know what you’re going on about. You look as skinny as ever.” Bringing both hands up, I covered the yawn that engulfed me. “There’s really never been any other hybrid kids?”
“Nope.”
“Then there is more at work here than nature.”
“That’s what Jamie said.”
Rolling away from her, I stretched out on the couch. “Does he have any proof?” I asked as I pulled a throw pillow under my head.
“His nanobots had built in birth control,” she nodded. “Unbeknownst to him, I might add. Jamie reversed it.”
“Without telling you?”
“This was before me. He found out by accident…it’s a long story.”
“What about Adam?”
“You’ve slept with Adam?” she cried in surprise.
“No,” I corrected her quickly. “Just wondering. For the future. If Cedars was…blocked…then the rest of the guys probably are too.”
“Well, I cannot attest to Adam’s virility. You’ll have to ask him yourself.”
Closing my eyes, I imagined how that conversation might go. A smile ghosted on my lips when I pictured his response. Now, I was definitely going to ask him about his fertility, if for no other reason than to see the look on his face when I did.
Chapter 7
Bars dissected my view. They belonged to the cell surrounding me. I had a blanket, but it wasn’t protection against the cold that seemed to come from within. Everything in me wanted to fight, to escape from this place, but the cold wouldn’t allow it. It was as if my body didn’t belong to me. Suddenly, I realized, in that detached dream sort of way, that it wasn’t my body. What I perceived as a blanket was actually fur. I was seeing through Adam’s eyes, and he was entirely a leopard.
“Good, Kitty,” the man in the surgical mask sneered, drawing my attention past the confines of the cell. “You’re right on schedule.”
Panic overwhelmed me as the man picked up a syringe. I wanted to lunge at the bars, to grasp the tender flesh at his neck between my teeth, but I was paralyzed by the cold. Or rather, Adam was. The stark realization that Adam wasn’t going to be able to stop what was about to happen to him drove fear into my heart. It was followed by an anger deeper than anything I’d ever felt before. Welling up inside me, it crashed in a wave of despair as the man turned towards the cell.
Adam, I moaned, trying to shut out the image before me.
Macy?
Adam sounded so disconnected from himself, like he’d already given up.
You can’t give up. I’m going to find you.
Macy?
His voice was stronger this time. Hold on, I urged, pouring all the strength I could into him.
“Macy.”
Adam was fading.
“Macy.”
“Go away,” I whimpered. I was with Adam.
“I’m sorry, Macy, but it’s time to go.”
Opening one eye, I squinted spitefully at Miranda.
“Don’t look at me like that. I let you sleep as long as I could.”
I rolled onto my back and stared helplessly at the ceiling. “I was with Adam.”
She sat down on the couch near my feet. “How’s he doing?” she asked, gently wrapping one ankle with her hand.
“He’s completely shifted.”
“Full-fledged leopard?”
“He’s in a cell,” I nodded. “And he’s so cold. He can’t function.” I sat up and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. Crying wasn’t going to save Adam.
“We’re gonna get him back,” she said, gently squeezing my ankle.
“When?” I demanded angrily. “Why do I have to waste my time meeting with the president? What does talking to the stupid president have anything to do with finding Adam?”
Quirking her eyebrow at me, she repeated, “Stupid president?”
“Well, I don’t know,” I snapped. Shoving my hair behind my ears in frustration, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I haven’t really been paying that much attention the last few years. And that doesn’t answer my question.”
She removed the hand on my foot, and clasping both her hands together, set them in her lap. “Would Adam meet with the president to explain the situation?” she asked quietly.
He probably would. I couldn’t picture him shying away from anything. But that was not an answer either.
“If you ignore the president and what Adam wanted in appointing you to speak to him, and then the relationship with the government sours, how are you going to justify that to Adam? Because, correct me if I’m wrong, but you are planning on retrieving Adam, right?”
Refusing to answer the ridiculousness that was that question, I skewered her with my scowl instead.
“And maybe you can find Adam on your own,” she continued, completely unaffected by my glare. “Maybe, you don’t need the Organization at all, but I’m betting Adam does.”
Crap, I thought as my scowl faded. She was right. He actually might need it now more than ever. “When do I leave?” I asked weakly.
“Half an hour. I tried to leave you enough time to at least shower.” Then she reared back and looked at me. “And to do something with that hair. Why don’t you get it cut?”
This was about the thousandth time she’d said that to me since we’d known each other. And this was the thousandth time I’d answered her the same way. “I don’t do short hair.”
“Maybe not, but your long hair is doing a number on you,” she replied sarcastically.
Again, I chose not to respond to her.
“Do I have any clothes,” I asked as I scooted from the couch and headed for the shower.
“I’ll get you some,” she called. “You need to hurry. You’re down to twenty-six minutes.”
“Right, what are they going to do? Leave without me?” I muttered. I’d actually welcome that.
The relaxation normally included with a hot shower was lost on me. I barely felt the water as I wondered what the heck I was going to say to the president. I tried to imagine what questions he might ask. What I would ask if I were the president. How was I going to explain New Orleans? If I told him there was a rogue hybrid on the loose with the plan that Millsap had, he might round all of us up. If I feigned ignorance, he might conclude that the Organization was no longer useful. Either way was littered with pitfalls. In the end, I was too tired and too rattled by my time as Adam or in Adam to think clearly. I would just have to hope that my brain would come up with something when it was time.
I found the clothes that Miranda left for me on the bed. They were not my usual jeans and t-shirt, but it was the president I was meeting. I pulled on the skirt and slipped the blouse over my head. When I leaned back to pick up the jacket, the smell of Adam arrested me. Forgetting about the jacket, I moved on all fours, tracking his scent across the bed to his pillow. Sitting back on my knees, I picked up the pillow and buried my nose in it. Adam flooded all of my senses.
Miranda’s cough alerted me to her return. Not ready to let go of Adam just yet, I turned my face sideways against the pillow to look at her. Her eyes were brimming with tears.
She hurriedly laid my rescued black leather boots on the bed next to me. “Sorry,” she apologized while fanning her face with her hands. “Hormones.”
As she retreated a few paces, I pressed my face into the pillow again and breathed in. Though the scent was strong, it was no substitute for the real thing. Adam wasn’t here. I placed the pillow back on the bed, my fingers trailing across its face as I pulled my hand away. Then intentionally shifting my focus to the boots, I picked them up.
“They look pretty good,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Juarez fixed them.”
“Juarez?” I sniffed.
“Apparently, leather working is a hobby of his.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her frown in worry, but she didn’t comment on the source. We were both doing our best to ignore the tears streaming down my face.
Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I leaned over and pulled on the boots. Not wanting a repeat of what happened the first time, I stood and walked around the bed to collect the jacket.
“Do you have any idea of what you’re going to say?” Miranda asked as she followed me out of the room.
“Not particularly.” I slipped the jacket on, then plucked a tissue from the desk and wiped my face free of tears. “Any suggestions?”
