PART NINE

Marco trudged heavily up the stairs to the second story apartment he shared with Serena, still trying to understand exactly what had happened tonight. The last he remembered, Max and Liz had been trying to reach for an image within his mind, and then after that his entire world had plummeted from beneath him.

He would talk to Serena about it, and maybe she could explain. He needed to know what he’d done wrong in coaching them, so that it would never happen again—not only for his own sanity, but also for Max and Liz’s sake. He couldn’t help feeling that he’d betrayed them somehow by entering their most intimate sanctum—even though it had been inadvertent.

The letter. Oh, God…the letter had said he’d betrayed them. Could it have been related to tonight’s incident? If there was one thing in the world he could never willingly do, it was to hurt them in any way—much less betray them.

He drew in a shuddering breath, as despair tightened around his heart.

Serena would simply have to explain this freak occurrence, just like she’d provided so many answers at other junctures in his life. She understood him better than anyone else, so surely she’d be able to make sense of his confusion.

He reached the landing, and turned his key in the lock.

As he opened the apartment door, he glimpsed Serena on the sofa, her mouth set in a grim line, with Riley beside her, his expression equally pale and serious.

And if Riley were here, it could only mean one thing.

"What?" Marco demanded, desperation edging his voice, as he stepped quickly inside the apartment. "Tell me what’s going on."

"Everything’s okay." Serena responded tightly. "For now."

Marco glanced quickly at Riley, whose eyes were clouded and dark. "If Riley’s here…"

"It was a go for tonight," Serena finished with a crisp nod. "But then it was aborted."

"Oh, God," Marco groaned, pacing in front of them. Riley stared up at him sympathetically, and Marco saw fear flicker in his normally warm brown eyes. Riley ran a shaky hand through his blonde hair.

"Anna contacted me about forty-five minutes ago, and I called Serena," Riley explained in his raspy voice. "We were about to call you…then Anna contacted again to say we should call it off."

"Why?" Marco asked, feeling his throat tighten. "Why aren’t we going through with it?"

"Anna says things have settled back down," Riley replied. "She feels confident that for now, Max and Liz are safe."

"But they weren’t earlier tonight?" Marco demanded, suddenly feeling very hostile about the entire situation. The walls of the tiny apartment seemed to be closing in around him.

"Khivar had ordered a hit," Serena stated calmly, meeting Marco’s incredulous gaze. "On both of them."

"What?" He roared. "Then why the hell are we still sitting here? We’re pushing this too damn close."

"Because Khivar called it off," Serena explained rationally. "Anna wasn’t privy to his reasoning, just that he changed the order."

Marco processed this new revelation for a moment, and rubbed his eyes, suddenly incredibly tired. When would this sickening roller coaster ride end for all of them?

"And what makes you so confident that they’re truly out of danger, Serena?" He demanded.

"Because Anna says the situation has stabilized," Serena answered. "And we go with her information."

Marco turned quickly on his heel, and crouched in front of her. "It’s time. This is getting too damn risky," he insisted, his voice low and urgent. "For everybody." He glanced at Riley meaningfully, but he only averted his eyes.

"Marco, we’ve been over this," Serena quipped, her voice raising. "We wait."

"This is our second aborted decision to move this week, Serena," Marco roared, jumping to his feet. "Somebody’s going to get hurt if we don’t make our move now. "

He noticed Riley flinch, and instantly wished he could retract his words because it wasn’t just Max and Liz’s lives that were at stake, but also that of their inside contact--Anna Davidson, Riley’s lifemate.

"Marco, do I need to remind you that if we move them too quickly, it will tip Nicholas off?" Serena asked, her voice edged with tension. "That it might jeopardize Anna’s life?"

"No," he answered in a heated whisper. "But she could run tonight."

"And then we’d never know exactly what else Khivar’s been planning all these months," Serena argued loudly. "All our advantage would be lost."

"If we lose Max and Liz, then none of this means anything anyway, Serena," Marco thundered, his patience exhausted. "I say forget about maintaining intelligence, and get them out tonight."

Serena stared at him for one long, endless moment, and Marco knew he’d pushed her too hard.

"We wait," She repeated tightly, her voice measured as she rose from the sofa. She breezed past him coolly, walking toward the kitchen, and he knew that he’d just angered her tremendously. He could judge Serena’s moods almost more easily than his own, and she was upset with him for challenging her so heatedly in front of Riley.

He dropped heavily onto the sofa, turning toward Riley. "I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t care what happens to Anna," he explained.

"Marco, I know that," he reassured him softly. "It’s a very complicated situation."

Complicated was an understatement. He’d known Riley his whole life, had practically grown up with him. But beyond that fact, Riley and Anna were two of their unit of seven protectors, and they had chosen to bond for one calculated purpose eight years before—to work together more closely in their role as protectors. They were both strongly intuitive and they’d suspected they might be able to use a potential connection for the resistance. And they’d judged correctly, because until Marco had learned about Max and Liz’s ability to communicate while separated, they had been the only two people he’d known capable of that.

Their strong connection was why Anna had been positioned underground within Khivar’s camp, a slow, agonizing process that had been unfolding for more than six years now. She’d been able to feed them information constantly, simply by connecting with Riley whenever necessary—and yet never needed to risk any kind of physical communication that Nicholas might suspect. It was the perfect cover, and no one could guess that she was handing them detailed information from the inside.

However, there had been one complication. While Riley and Anna’s joining had simply been a calculated, political decision, they’d fallen deeply in love along the way. And Marco was more sympathetic than ever to their plight after tonight. If what they felt for one another even slightly resembled what he’d sensed between Max and Liz, then this had to be tearing them both apart. They hadn’t spent one moment physically together in the past six years.

"Anna’s okay?" Marco asked softly.

"Yeah, she’s okay…on edge, but okay," he sighed.

On edge. Not terrified or frightened…simply on edge.

Marco was reminded why Anna was the one on the inside, not Riley—she was the stronger of the two, where as Riley was much more gentle and sensitive. Then again—was it really easier to be the one on the outside, knowing your mate was in constant jeopardy? Marco had always known Riley possessed a quiet inner strength, and he’d never seen it more clearly than in the recent weeks.

Riley brushed a lock of hair away from his face. He wore his blonde hair long and shaggy, which only furthered his boyish appearance. No one would have guessed that he was at least five years older than Marco, especially since Marco towered over him, and looked much older than his mere twenty-five years.

Marco studied Serena where she moved briskly around the kitchen, putting dishes away, wiping off the counter--so familiar, something he’d watched her do all his life. Riley followed his gaze, and then laughed softly, hugging a sofa pillow against himself.

"She’s pissed," Riley declared with a nod.

"Indeed."

They’d both seen it enough times in their many years together, that it didn’t take much to tip them off. They’d learned when to stay out of her path, which was admittedly not very often, but her body language was easy enough to analyze at the moment.

Serena returned to the living room, her jaw set tightly. "Marco, I’d like to talk to you," she announced, glancing at Riley who clearly didn’t miss her message, and rose immediately to his feet.

"I’ve got to get some sleep," he said. "I’ll talk to you both in the morning."

****

Marco sat at the kitchen table, as Serena studied him seriously. He felt uncomfortable beneath her penetrating gaze, her blue eyes blazing with anger.

"I know you’re mad," he admitted finally. He noticed the expression in Serena’s eyes soften at his honest assessment.

"Marco," she began quietly. "I don’t mind your voicing your opinions on this, but…we have to stay unified."

He nodded, suddenly feeling like he was five years old again, and she’d just discovered him experimenting irresponsibly with his powers.

"It upsets me when you challenge what I’m saying in front of the team…anyone on the team."

"But Riley…"

"Is still part of our unit."

What Marco had wanted to say was that Riley was his close friend, like a brother. Did they really need to maintain formalities with him? Apparently so, he thought, and buried his face in his hands with a weary sigh. He felt like his world had been spinning crazily for the past week, with so many unexpected turns, he could hardly sort them all out.

"Yes, Serena," he answered heavily.

There was a long moment of silence, then finally he lowered his hands, and found her studying him carefully.

"This isn’t just about Max and Liz’s safety," she stated matter-of-factly. "You were already upset when you arrived, weren’t you?"

He nodded slowly, chewing on his lip.

Now something in her blue eyes changed, and he saw love and concern mirrored in their depths. It took some of the edge off his loneliness.

"Talk to me," she encouraged, all her focus having shifted. He closed his eyes and thought how much he appreciated this in her—that she could be their ruthless leader one moment, then become the closest thing he’d known to a mother in the next.

"Oh, God, Serena," he began, his heart beating quickly. "I think I really made a huge mistake tonight."

She stiffened in her chair, but met his gaze with a calm air of reassurance.

"Go on," she encouraged.

"I don’t even know where to begin."

****

Liz glanced at her watch. It was almost midnight, but Max had been hungry and he had at least two more hours of studying left. So she’d volunteered to make one of his favorite omelets with jack cheese and jalapenos. He sat at their kitchen table, bent close over a notebook full of his copious notations. He had a short history test in the morning, and was determined to make an A, and while he didn’t have her perfect 4.0, he was cruising at a steady 3.85.

She scooped up their two plates, walking to the table where he sat, and he looked up, his eyes tired and red.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he smiled. "Smells fabulous."

Liz moved to their refrigerator, opening it and removing the orange juice. "Does it?" She called doubtfully, thinking how absolutely overpowering the aroma was to her.

"Umm…" he said, taking a bite. "Actually, tastes even more fabulous than it smells."

Liz poured orange juice in a glass for him, then walked back to the table.

"You know, about the whole smell factor," she began, settling in the seat beside him. "Do you…kind of smell things… really intensely all the time?" She felt her face flush a bit, and wondered why it embarrassed her to broach this topic with Max.

His fork stopped in mid-air, and he just stared at her for a moment, as a slow smile spread across his features. "Now Liz Evans, why ever do you ask?" He teased in a pseudo-Southern drawl, and she realized that he knew where her question was leading.

"Well, because ever since last night…" she hesitated, trying to find the right words to describe what she’d been experiencing. "Everything just smells really, really strong. Overpowering really."

"I see," Max grinned, taking another bite of his omelet.

"Okay, now why exactly is this so funny?" She asked, swatting him playfully on the arm.

"Oh, no particular reason, my queen," he laughed. "Just that I’ve lived with that my whole life…and now it’s happening to you. Somehow that pleases me immensely."

"But it’s nauseating," she complained.

"No it isn’t."

"It is to me."

"Well, that’s probably just because you aren’t used to it yet," he suggested.

"Alright, well let me ask you this," Liz continued, taking a sip of his orange juice. "Do you smell me…." Oh, God, this part was harder than she’d thought. "Well, you know, like…everywhere?"

Max reached for her hand, and took it softly within his own. "Liz, it might surprise you to know that I’ve always known your scent," he replied, drawing her hand to his mouth. He brushed his lips across her knuckles, and heat rolled through her at his intimate gesture. "Years ago, I used to sit in the Crashdown, on the other side of the café, just breathing you in."

Now her face flushed again, but for an entirely different reason. Her husband had just managed to set her on fire with the simplest of statements.

"Really?" she asked with a slow smile.

"Really. And I always know you in any crowd," he answered, shaking his head with a wry laugh. "Like the desert after the rain, that’s your lovely scent."

Liz’s heart began thundering at his poetic description.

"Wow," she answered softly, dropping her eyes. They were silent for a moment, electric tension spinning between the two of them, until finally she spoke.

"Well, this morning when I woke, it was like you were just…everywhere," she explained, her eyes widening. "So, it’s like that?"

"Just like that," he agreed softly.

"Does it drive you crazy?"

"Sometimes," he smiled flirtatiously. "Especially lately."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she answered, feeling heat bank within her body.

He stroked his fingers slowly up her arm, and her skin tingled at his touch…began to simmer. She’d thought last night might have been the end of their season, reaching the crazy crescendo that they had, but now she realized that was far from the case.

"You need to study," she reminded him, trying to suppress the growing hum of desire within her.

"I know," Max whispered, his fingers stilling against her arm. He stared at his open books contemplatively for a moment, clearly conflicted--but then he looked at her again, and his expression shifted, becoming suddenly wild and passionate.

"But I need you, too," he breathed.

So much for studying, Liz thought, as Max cupped her face within his hands, kissing her hungrily.

Oh, so much for anything other than this kiss, she thought, and lost herself in her husband’s embrace.

***

Serena folded her hands thoughtfully on the table, and cleared her throat. Marco couldn’t judge her reaction about what he’d just revealed, and began to feel slightly panicky. Maybe he had failed them all by being careless somehow—yet he didn’t really believe that was true.

"Marco, I’ve never heard of anything like this," she stated calmly. "So I’m not sure what to think."

Great, she was just as clueless as he was, he thought.

"But I can tell you this," she continued. "You must be careful in helping them with their powers. They’re still just babes with their intuition."

"Do you think that might have had something to do with it?"

"Think about it…they were reaching for something within your mind," she answered thoughtfully. "I suspect one of them inadvertently opened the connection to you at that moment…a genuine hazard since they can connect without physical proximity, especially since you’re so attuned to them."

"Well, how do I keep it from happening in the future?" Marco questioned solemnly, furrowing his brows in frustration.

"You must always remember to block while they’re connected. And don’t coach them in any exercises related to your own mind."

"Easy enough," he agreed, yet doubt still plagued him. What about other times when he didn’t know they were connected? What would prevent it from happening then?

"But something about it unsettled me terribly, Serena," he continued, sighing heavily. "I keep remembering the letter that I wrote them…from the future."

He watched Serena’s expression closely, and didn’t miss something akin to worry flash in her blue eyes.

"Well there is that," she agreed. "But Marco, I know your heart, and it’s good. You already love them both, of that much I’m certain."

Yes, he’d loved them for years simply as his acknowledged king and queen, but after tonight, his emotions had deepened—something indefinable had sprung to life once he’d sensed their bond.

"My only instruction is to be careful about their connection," she counseled. "You’ve seen that you’re somehow overly receptive to it, so be on your guard. Blocking is your best protection, and I know that you can do that."

He ran a nervous hand through his hair, and wished that Serena were right, yet something deep within him rebelled against her words. He couldn’t help feeling that tonight had been a terrible omen.

"Yes, certainly," he promised.

Serena tossed her ponytail over her shoulder, a final gesture. "Marco, I have the utmost faith in you," she assured him. "Remember that."

And just forget about the letter, he finished in his mind, because he knew that was what was haunting him, more than what had happened this evening.

"I’ll do my best," he stated with forced confidence, bowing his head slightly.

And he meant it in every way—he would do his best in protecting them, as well as his best in averting his own potential betrayal, because he had no other destiny than to serve the two of them, of that much he was certain.

So he would guard them at all costs--even against himself, if need be.