Page 25 of Stolen By Her Alien Mate

“Just tell me which direction to take and when to turn.”

Thankfully the Adjunct sticks to my rules, and ten minutes later, I pull to a stop on a street of identical buildings. Each building has two doors on the first floor and a set of stairs leading up to another two doors on the second floor. According to the Adjunct, they are apartments. The amulet is located in a room on the second floor of the second building.

I park the Harley and climb off. “Can you tell if she’s home?” I ask as I cross the street.

“She is not. Assuming the apartment containing the amulet is where she resides, she is not home.”

Why does he have to say everything in the most convoluted way possible?

“So she’s not at home?” I clarify. “Her apartment is empty?”

“Correct. Her apartment is void of living organisms of significant size to be-”

“Got it.”

“However there is a living organism waiting by her back door.”

My steps slow. “Like a pet or something?”

“Unlikely. It appears to be a human male.”

I stop beside a car a few doors down from my Joey’s apartment. “Describe him.”

“What information would you prefer to know about him? His blood pressure is elevated and his heart rate is–”

“Don’t give me a fracking med scan. Who is he?”

“I cannot be certain, but I believe he is the human male who was with Joey Kincaid in the diner.”

“Are you fracking with me?” I mutter.

“Neither my programming nor my physical limitations would allow me to do so.”

I mutter another curse, but this time I keep it entirely in my head.

“So you caught what happened in the diner, did you?” I’ve never been entirely sure how much the Adjunct monitors me when I’m not on the shuttle.

Obviously, I’ve had the chip for most of my adult life. Certainly for every mission I’ve completed on Perse. But usually I have other people with me and I don’t rely on the Adjunct quite this much.

“I am uncertain what you mean,” he says now.

“So you keep a record of everything I do? Even when I’m not in the shuttle?”

“Correct. Though if you would prefer I don’t record your actions, you merely need to request that I stop recording.”

Inexplicably, I think of kissing Joey. I remember how soft she felt in my arms. How she tasted.

“But even if you don’t record what happens, you’ll still see it?” Why does it bother me—the idea of this tiny slice of computer witnessing my interactions with my be'lahshuk?

I’m not sure exactly why it bothers me, only that it does. Kissing her feels sacred, and it’s not something I want to share. Not with anyone. Not with anything.

“I do not see anything, the way an organic would. However, if you request it of me,” the Adjunct replies, “I can temporarily sever the connection between your chip and the shuttle.”

“Great.”

“Shall I do so now?”

“No. First we need to take care of the asshole lurking outside my be’lahshuk’s apartment.”