AllFreeNovel
Share Us
That attitude shook him to his core.
Here he was, a man who could get any woman on campus with a mere flick of the finger, rejected by an ordinary-looking nobody. But the more she told him to go away, the more appealing she became.
He refused to let her end whatever this was before it began. So, he devised a strategy to court her and dove into everything about her he could find. It didn’t take long before he ended up head-over-heels in love with the captivating woman. She no longer was a mere conquest or trophy waiting to be won. Here was a person with feelings and thoughts, with decisive, unique opinions all her own.
Even knowing his persistence was a long shot, he kept at it until she relented and agreed to go out with him. On her terms. After a couple of years, the happiest day of his life happened when she finally accepted his proposal of marriage.
Today her ethereal form wisped to sit across from him in the lounge chair that used to be her favorite place to unwind after a hard day.
“Claude.” Her voice had that unrelenting tone it got when she thought he was being a stubborn ass. “You need to get over feeling sorry for yourself and get on with your life. If that means pursuing another woman, so be it.”
His love always was a practical soul.
He couldn’t help teasing her. “Even if that other woman is an alien from another planet?”
Barbara snorted. “Alien, shma-alien.” She waved a hand to dismiss his argument. “You know damn well she’s good for you.” She scooted to the edge of the seat. “Besides, I need you to let me go.” Her hazel eyes brightened as she looked off into the distance. “I have to move on, and I can’t do that with you holding on to me so tight.” Her ghostly form floated and knelt in front of him. Her cool touch slid over his hands. “Please, my love. Let me go.”
Claude tore his gaze away and studied the portrait of them together that sat on the mantel. A small smile creased his tight lips as he thought about how she had to threaten him with various creative scenarios before he gave in and sat for the photographer. Since her death, he’d thanked her every day for the lasting gift.
He regarded his love once again. “I will always love you.” The words were soft as the weight of grief holding him down loosened.
“And I you,” Barbara promised. “Even though it’s time for us to go our separate ways, your love will carry me wherever my next life leads me. Goodbye, my everlasting darling.” She leaned in and gave him a gossamer kiss on his lips before her ghost-like form wisped away.
Claude jerked awake.
What the fuck? His heart raced painfully. Damn, that dream felt so real. He cleared his throat and glanced at the portrait. For the first time since her death, he was at peace. Even though that had to be a dream, it was time to let go of the past. He refused to let it dictate his actions for the rest of his life. He got up, his gaze never leaving the serene smile on Barbara’s face. Putting an arm on the rocky mantel, he leaned close.
“You’re right, Barb. It’s time for both of us to move on.” With a sad smile, he took the simple gold wedding band off his finger and placed it under the portrait.
Claude pulled out a single traveling bag from the closet and bounced it onto the bed. He looked around the room as if searching for inspiration. Where in the hell did he think he was going? Like he knew where to start.
Dejected, he plopped onto the edge of the firm mattress next to the case. He closed his eyes and relived the last time he’d seen Amata, about six months ago. He’d been in a meeting with several heads of state at the White House in a boardroom reserved to combat the terror and chaos the almost-invasion created. Aides were coming and going as he and several Secretaries of State were arguing about the best way to move forward. Some argued to bring in the media for full disclosure while others insisted everything be kept as quiet as possible to give them time to clean things up in the background.
The opposing factions in the room wouldn’t budge. Claude might as well be stuck in the middle of two hard rocks. He agreed allowing full disclosure to the masses was ridiculous, but there had to be a safe way to calm the public down with tendrils of information. Besides, there was no way they could keep all of this under wraps. The big social media platforms already had twisted one outlandish tale after another. If they didn’t get a handle on it soon, rampant theories would take over, pushing another wave of panic to take over.
Thank God his director at the CIA, Jazmi, was in the room working with him. While she appeared like herself, she’d toned down her hybrid alien/human appearance to make her look more human. Instead of dual-colored orange and brown, her irises now boasted a single light brown. Her ears were round instead of ending in a slight point. She’d given her skin a light tan color instead of her normal albino hue. She’d come in to the meeting sharply dressed in an expensive tailored Halston business suit with a crisp blouse, now wrinkled with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Her jacket draped over the back of a chair was long forgotten. The woman’s expression remained pinched, her lips thin and white as if trying to hold back pain.
Jazmi was a powerful psychic who could send tendrils of calm into the room more than once. The countless hours she’d done that had to be taking its toll on her.
“Agent Reese, what do you think…” The Secretary of Interior was an elderly woman whose fanatical obsession with environmental conservation efforts might’ve been perfect for the job, but her bland tone got on his last damn nerve.
Swallowing his annoyance, he gave the woman his full attention until the hairs on the back of his neck rose. Tuning out the monotone efforts of the secretary, he glanced to the other side of the room. There she was. The gorgeous, alluring Amata Aya.
Being a full-fledged Akurn, she couldn’t hide her distinguished Albino-like skin color or the mesmerizing hue of her turquoise eyes. Her appearance of a young woman in her mid-twenties was misleading.
He guessed she was much, much older than anyone in this room could even imagine. Her eyes held a sadness and wisdom that belied the youth of her smooth skin and gentle features.
Him being in his early fifties couldn’t compare to what she must have lived through. Talk about a May-December romance…
“I’m sorry, Madam Secretary.” He rose, keeping Amata in his sights. He’d tried more times than he could count to be alone with her, but she’d always eluded him. “There’s someone here I must see.” Not waiting for the woman’s response, he weaved through several standing groups and headed straight to Amata, who was in a heated conversation in the corner with Jazmi.
“If you think that’s best.” Amata put a hand on Jazmi’s forearm and leaned in with focused intent. “Are you sure you don’t need me here?”
Don’t need me here? What in the hell did that mean? She wasn’t planning on going somewhere, was she?
Jazmi patted Amata’s hand. “Yes, I’m sure. I know you’d like to avoid getting caught up in the publicity of this mess.” She waved a hand at the loud-and-heated discussions in the room. “I promise you, we’ll call you if we need anything.”
Amata’s eyes widened when Claude approached.
