Blue Dawn (14 page)

To keep from jumping up, running from the building, contacting his spaceship and returning immediately to Zura. To hold on to his conviction that he would achieve his destiny without the same, devastating effect.

“So what do you think?”

The question pulled him back to the here and now. To Allie, her big green eyes watching him with surprise and curiosity. To Allie, who was young, and fresh, and
happy.
Happy, by the stars.

A happiness he had only begun to realize attracted him more than anything he’d ever encountered. A happiness he didn’t want to destroy.

Erik struggled to make his vocal cords work. He struggled to control the shock and despair. Though he was loathe to admit it, he had always felt himself different from other Zalians. It was a difference he had never seen any sign of in his sister or brother, though they too were one-quarter Earthling, a difference he had suspected but never addressed in his mother.

And then there were the doubts. Doubts about destiny. Doubts about Zalia’s superiority, about the rightness of the Zalian way. Those doubts had always been there, but he’d kept them successfully buried. But now the door had been blown off the crypt, and his doubts, greater and more threatening than ever before, were escaping.

Erik swallowed. With every shred of self-discipline, he forced the doubts aside. “Yes, you are right,” he said woodenly, every word tasting like sawdust in his dry mouth. “She does look a bit like me. Probably there’s some German blood in her, too. It is not unusual for unrelated people to look alike.”

Allie looked at the photo again, then at Erik.

She frowned. “Actually, there’s more than a little resemblance. There’s a lot. But you’re probably right. Look at all the Elvis look-a-likes around.”

For a split second, Erik shut his eyes. One day soon, Allie would know Eva Bukowski’s true identity. But not yet. She was no more ready for the truth than he was ready to tell it. His weak telepathic powers and interference from his burgeoning emotions might prevent him from reading her thoughts, but this he knew with absolute certainty.

He opened his eyes, the crippling doubts still with him despite his efforts. He cleared his throat. “How are you planning to handle it?”

“Don’t know yet,” Allie replied. She shuffled through some other papers on her desk. “I’ll try to find out if she has any living relatives left.

Apparently she had a couple of younger brothers who were out with her parents the night she disappeared.”

She smiled faintly, that teasing light that he found so appealing there in her eyes again for the first time since Saturday night. “Wouldn’t it be weird though if they turned out to be your long-lost relatives?”

His face betrayed no emotion, but inwardly Erik groaned.
Just how ”weird” would Allie think it was
when she knew the truth?

The opening bars of the upbeat tune that introduced the six o’clock news broke through the murmur of voices in the tastefully-appointed living room. With relief, Erik grasped the music as a signal to end Allie’s impromptu visit with Cody’s mother.

“We should go,” he said. He stood up and hefted his camera bag over his shoulder. Despite his best efforts, he was finding it impossible to ignore the unsettling disquiet that had overtaken him since Norah Walker’s tearful call to Allie less than an hour ago. Accompanying Allie on the visit had only heightened the confused reactions set off by the earlier interview with the family whose young daughter had disappeared five years earlier.

He had tried to remain detached, unaffected, but the family’s continuing torment had shaken him to the core. Only the fact that he knew without doubt that Zalians had nothing to do with the child’s disappearance had assuaged his discomfort.

But Cody’s disappearance was different. Erik had neither considered nor expected to meet the heartbroken woman who was desperately begging Allie for the smallest crumb of hope concerning her son, hope that Allie was hard-pressed to find.

This was awful.

Tension spiraling upwards, Erik watched as Allie gently disentangled herself from the woman’s arms. She placed one hand over Norah’s be-jewelled hand and squeezed. “Try to get some rest now. And take those sedatives the doctor ordered.

It will do you good to get some sleep.”

Like a small child, Norah nodded. With an effort she straightened, re-assuming some of the controlled stateliness she had projected before her collapse only moments before. She glanced up at Erik, and her eyes filled with tears again.

Pain throbbed through Erik’s head. He gritted his teeth. “Allie,” he repeated, ”we have to go.” He concentrated on blocking out the woman’s pain, on ridding himself of the guilt trying to cripple him and thwart his destiny.

“I’m coming.” Without looking at him, Allie stood up. Norah rose also. She shook her head, then walked toward the spacious condo’s huge entry hall. When she reached the door, she stopped, her hand on the knob.

“Thank you so much for coming,” she said, her graciousness now in firm control despite the trail of tears still visible on her face. “Both of you.”

She turned to Allie. “My dear, you have no idea how sorry I was to see your engagement to Cody ended.” She smiled ruefully. “I know he treated you abysmally, but at heart, you know, he’s really a good boy.”

Erik frowned at the mention of the former engagement, but Allie ignored him. “Goodnight Norah.” She touched the woman’s arm. “I’ll call you again tomorrow.”

In silence Allie and Erik took the elevator to the lobby, and out to the visitor parking lot of the condo where the widowed Mrs. Walker lived alone.

Erik was glad Allie appeared to have no desire to talk; he was having enough trouble dealing with his internal turmoil.
Why am I so upset? Why can’t
I stay removed?
he wondered over and over.
Why
is the tiny part of me that’s human taking on such
gigantic proportions?

Erik’s head continued to throb as he started the Jag and then pulled it out onto the wide suburban street in Brookfield, a few miles west of Chicago. After a moment he glanced at Allie. She too sat stiffly, her profile turned from him, her gaze trained blindly on the street. She said nothing, but it was evident how much the visit with Mrs. Walker had upset her.
Did she care
about Cody that much?

He gritted his teeth and focused on the road.

The fact he could even think these questions was evidence of how badly he was being corrupted by Earthly emotions. No matter what, he had to regain his distance, the detachment that allowed him to do what was required of him, and to achieve his destiny as a loyal and true Zalian.

He made the mistake of glancing at Allie again.

His eyes widened in alarm.

Tears streamed down her face. Her lips were pressed together and her arms were wrapped around her middle in an effort to prevent the sobs from escaping.

Erik screeched over to the curb. He ground the gears into park. Abandoning any attempt at Zalian detachment, he turned towards her. “What’s wrong?”

Allie shook her head. If anything, she cried harder. Gray smudges from the paint Earth women used on their eyelashes streaked one cheek.

Erik gripped the shift stick until his knuckles turned white. Too rattled by his Earthly emotions to use telepathy, he had no choice but to ask.

“What’s wrong? Is it Cody?”

Between sobs Allie shook her head. “Yes. No,”

she finally managed. “Of course I’m upset Cody is missing.” She hiccuped. “But it’s not him as much as his mother. You saw her. She can’t eat. She can’t sleep. She can’t stop thinking about it. Not knowing what’s happened to him is tearing her apart. And that missing little girl too. The same with her family.”

Allie sniffed and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry,” she sputtered. “I know I shouldn’t break down like this. Reporters aren’t supposed to get so involved in their stories.

They’re supposed to be objective, hands off. Every time I think of Cody’s mother . . . and that little girl’s parents . . . and what they’re going through.”

Allie dropped her face into her hands and started to cry in earnest.

Tension gripped Erik. He was far more distressed at seeing Allie hurting than any Zalian should be. He wanted to gather her into his arms, to give the comfort that simple touching seemed to provoke between humans, that he’d seen Allie give Norah Walker. But should he? His Zalian and human sides battled over what to do.

He watched helplessly as Allie hiccuped and wiped her face again with her hand. “I can’t stand this happening to anyone. It just hurts so much.”

Suddenly Erik couldn’t stand it any more either. Right or wrong, he had to touch her, to offer the solace his humanity cried out to give.

Tentatively, some part of him fearing immediate reprisal, he slipped his arm around Allie. He squeezed her slim shoulder and stroked her arm, drawing her as close to the shelter of his body as the bucket seats and gear shift would allow. With as much care and gentleness as he would have handled a priceless treasure, he brushed loose strands of red/gold hair away from her face, then used the rough pads of his fingers to wipe away the tears streaking her cheeks. Without realizing it, he murmured human words of love and comfort that came to him, effortlessly, from some deep well within. “It’s all right, sweetheart. It’s all right. You’ll see. You’re doing everything you can.

Everything will be fine. Shhh now. Shhhh.”

Allie’s tears slowed, then quieted altogether as he held her close. Her breathing steadied and deepened, soothing her agitation and communicating a growing calmness that Erik could feel slowly invading his own body. How strange, he thought with wonder, that the simple act of offering consolation to some one you cared about could soothe your own turmoil. And make you feel closer, and more drawn to that person than ever.

Allie sniffed; she squirmed and pulled away, breaking the spell. With her back pressed against the door, she looked at him from under lashes studded with tears. “I guess I’ve destroyed my image as a hard-boiled reporter. Now you probably think I’m nothing but a cream puff.”

Erik struggled to keep pace with the change of mood and her confusing words. “A cream puff?

Isn’t . . . don’t you eat cream puffs?”

Allie sputtered, then hiccuped. She laughed and grasped his hand. “Oh, Erik. You’re unbelievable. I just meant I collapse into tears easily.”

“Losing a son or a daughter is not a small thing,” Erik replied solemnly. He started when he realized what he’d said, but he didn’t take it back.

Because it was true, and even his Zalian detachment couldn’t make him pretend otherwise.

“I know.” Allie sniffed. She looked down at Erik’s hand, then back up at him. Though she had stopped crying, her eyes still glittered with tears.

“I know. I think about what it would be like if my sister and her husband lost one of the twins. Or how my parents would have suffered if Wanda or I had disappeared. I know how they would feel. I know how I would feel. It would be awful, just awful.”

For one long moment, Erik felt her sorrow. And deep within him he knew that
she
knew that he understood, and somehow was comforted by that knowledge.

Allie squeezed Erik’s hand. She managed a crooked smile. Erik couldn’t prevent the somersaulting of his heart.

Without warning Allie leant forward and kissed him on the mouth, with a gentleness and sweetness that filled him with awe.

She leaned back against the door. Her eyes, still glittering with tears, shone brightly. “Thank you Erik. Thank you for . . . just for being here.”

Erik blinked. He didn’t know what to say or do.

He didn’t know how to cope with his soaring heart, with all the things he wanted to say to her, with his fierce desire to touch her.

Silently he turned back to the steering wheel, put the car into gear and stepped on the gas.

The week sped by in a flurry of research, tracking down friends and relatives of the missing people, completing emotionally-draining interviews, and making the daily phone call to Cody’s mother. As a result of Allie’s training and the demands of the job, she managed to maintain her composure throughout.

But it was more than that, she thought as she and Erik drove to the last of the interviews Friday afternoon. She glanced at him and then couldn’t help smiling. He always drove with absolute concentration, and with an assurance that was awe-inspiring given the short time he had spent in Chicago.

No, she thought again, Erik was equally responsible for her ability to pull off these interviews this week. His quiet presence had been like a rock, steady and supportive. He’d said little, but she’d known without doubt that he understood how the pain of the people left behind had cut into her heart. And through the week, through the heart-rending interviews, her respect and liking for him had grown day by day despite her resistance.

Could there ever be anything between them?

she wondered, the ever-present hum and increasing attraction to Erik pushing itself forefront into her mind. No, she thought resolutely. It’s just because they’d spent so much time together this week. It was always like that when you worked with someone on a highly-charged story. It—

The abrupt careening of the Jag into a minuscule parking space on a narrow street off Milwaukee Avenue cut off her thoughts. Allie looked around. This was it. The street where Eva Bukowski’s only surviving brother lived.

She reached for the canvas backpack holding her notebooks and pens. Her hand settled on the door handle just as Erik touched her arm. She looked up. It struck her again how much she liked Erik’s face, with his steady gray eyes, his broad cheekbones and wide generous mouth. How could she ever have thought he was expressionless.

“Yes?”

“Are you sure you want to go through with this interview? They’re starting to get repetitious.”

“Repetitious?” Allie couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d struck her. “Repetitious?” she repeated, dumbstruck. “What do you mean, repetitious?”

Erik shrugged, his expression revealing nothing. “This is the fourth time this week you’ve interviewed friends or relatives of missing people.