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The super powered male stopped the elevator quickly enough that the g-forces would have hurt Alicia if he hadn't absorbed the inertia with his powers. Could you come over here and wrap your arms around me," Harry urged gently. There was no need for an answer as Harry activated his phasing mutant ability and let the elevator drop through the pair. In her shock Alicia automatically used her meteor based mutant powers to teleport the pair to the main floor elevator entrance. Harry had known the intelligent young blonde was a meteor mutant for some time. Alice had passively scanned the gorgeous Miss Baker and had discovered that little fact when the A.
The wizard admired Alicia all the more for her restraint in not abusing her powers. Harry's hands immediately slid down to Alicia's soft hips as he flicked his tongue across her closed lips to ask entrance. Alicia moaned as the aggressive male's tongue explored her hot mouth.
Made me stay up late and put off work just to read it. Smiling, David peeled away the paper and bit into his dinner. And then there is the actual writing. Besides the girl asked for so little and had lost so much. Gannett Company. With many new products now available, we would welcome the opportunity to attend any agent forums you may be hosting.
The blonde's breathing sped up rapidly as the part veela's senses picked up all the classic signs of arousal and some that were only able to be sensed by a member of his race. Kent, Miss Baker," The shrill yet relieved voice of the snogging pair's economics teacher rang out from the nearby entrance to the stair well. I wouldn't have heard a nuke go off in the city," Harry announced as he wrapped an arm around a madly blushing Alicia. The teacher just muttered expletives under her breath before rounding up the rest of the class to head back to Smallville.
Harry made sure he sat next to Alicia while Chloe practically sat on his lap. A Notice-Me-Not charm gave the trio a bit of privacy. Alicia clutched at the reporter's arm as the science club member began to shake in a powerful orgasm.
Chloe grasped Alicia with both hands on the other blonde's cheeks before pulling Miss Baker into a searing kiss while Chloe used her powers to enter Alicia's mind and share some of the reality explorer's history with the meteor mutant. She's going to jump you sooner rather than later, love," Chloe whispered in her man's mind. Alicia wouldn't find out until later that evening that when the elder Kent brother said pick her up he meant pick her up. Kent," Alicia complimented as she pulled the door shut behind her.
The couple shot through the upper atmosphere and were soon in space. Alicia was shrieking in delight the entire way, a look of absolute wonder and joy on her face as she held tightly with her arms wrapped around Harry's neck. When the couple finally stopped they were floating not too far from Earth's sun. Harry floated forward until Alice indicated he and Alicia were in a good position.
Pulling a cube from his pocket the warlock channeled a bit of power into the device until it activated. Alicia watched in awe as the small cube expanded before her eyes into a platform the size of a small restaurant. A table appeared in a flash of white light as the "restaurant's" synthesizer systems activated. Force-fields rose up to encompass a cube shaped volume on top of the platform as the synthesizer conjured an atmosphere while heating elements within the platform itself raised the temperature to comfortable levels for a human.
As chairs appeared the engineer set Alicia down before leading her over to a seat he held out for her. Alicia laughed happily as all of the amazing events happened before her. Harry was very attentive to the blonde's end of their conversation during the delicious meal before he asked her to dance. As the table disappeared the pair danced in front of the sun with the force-fields attenuating the light to comfortable levels.
The platform continually orbited the yellow star. Alicia couldn't help but stare up into the bright green eyes of the powerful man before her, with his arms wrapped around her, and feel like nothing could ever hurt her again, her parents included. Alicia couldn't help herself as she rose up on the tips of her toes and kissed her date in gratitude and desire. Before the two dancers knew it, the time had arrived for Alicia to be home. Harry reluctantly enclosed his date in his personal force-field while Alice deactivated the cube platform, the device floating back into the sorcerer's pocket.
With but a thought Alicia and the wizard disappeared into the darkness of space and appeared out of the shadows in front of her home. I'll always be watching out for you. I will see you at school tomorrow," Harry promised before leaning down and kissing the young woman he intended to mate with soon tenderly. Alicia appeared in Harry's room with a slight green glow in the air signaling her unique brand of teleportation.
The blonde bombshell wasn't to know that there were powerful wards protecting the Kent Farm and that only the fact that she bore no ill intentions towards the Farm's inhabitants allowed her passage through the powerful barriers. With a bit of concentration Alicia floated over the bed under the control of Harry's telekinesis before she was brought down to straddle his bare groin.
Alicia fit in very well with the other lovers of the green eyed Asuran male. All of the beauties noticed one thing slightly…off about the newest blonde. Alicia was very clingy, almost to the point of being obsessively possessive. Luckily Harry's ladies were smart enough to knock that trait right out of Alicia. This task was easily accomplished by making it clear to Alicia that the women were all equal lovers via what their man fondly called a lick fest. As the name implies it was pretty much an event where all of the other women engaged in an oral orgy with Alicia at the center.
When it was over Alicia understood that sharing was a good thing and that the other ladies were also now her lovers. Possessiveness was fine as long as Alicia was possessive of them all. It didn't escape Harry's attention once the telepathic connections were established as to the source of Alicia's troubles. The intelligent blonde's parents had basically imprisoned her in a lead shielded room after her teleportation powers had manifested. Some parents just didn't know how to raise a mutant.
After Alicia had managed to break out of the room using her sharp intellect she made it clear to her parents that such actions would not be tolerated again. It isn't smart to dick with somebody who can teleport a person to a high elevation above the ground and leave them there. Alicia didn't need to do this to her parents because there had been a perfectly good creepy asshole that wouldn't leave her alone, making many unwanted sexual advances.
It was child's play for Alicia to let the boy think she returned his feelings for a short time. The boy survived but took a while to get out of the hospital. It got Alicia's point across to her parents. Unfortunately now the elder Bakers were deathly afraid of their daughter. As someone who had spent quite a bit of his childhood in isolation, locked in a cupboard by uncaring relatives, Harry didn't blame Alicia at all.
The veela hybrid didn't want his newest mate to have to lose all contact with her parents should she choose to reestablish relations with them. Shadow travelling into the elder Bakers' bedroom and charming the couple into a deeper sleep the sorcerer was able to alter their minds slightly. The magician used memory modification to erase the memories that caused Mr. Baker to fear their daughter. Then a compulsion was placed on the Bakers to be more open minded and accepting of their daughter and her powers.
It was subtle and the wizard could have done a lot worse but enough damage was suffered on both sides by the couple's closed mindedness. If only Vernon and Petunia Dursley had been so easily dealt with then the last Potter would have had a much happier childhood. While the wizard's other women had been showing Alicia how to use her new powers after her Asuran upgrade she was nowhere near experienced enough to discern something he was trying to hide from her on her own. The mage wanted to let the Baker female think her parents had come around on their own.
But a simple look into her parents' minds might have told the science loving blonde the true cause, depending upon how skilled she became with her telepathy in a short period of time. Over time the signs of memory alteration would have become buried by new memories and would have been less likely to be detected. Her attention drifted over the restaurant. A cashier stood behind the counter, waiting but not pushing—no doubt used to the hesitation, the fear of company. How many had walked in, only to walk out again?
Only two booths remained empty of talking people spewing germs with every word, eager to connect with other human beings face-to-face. The first, but not the last.
The mop hit the tile with a slurpy thump. What are you in the mood for? She eyed the ruby-red tomatoes, spring-green lettuce, golden fried chicken and perfectly browned burgers in the lush pictures. Saliva pooled in her mouth.
Editorial Reviews. About the Author. Linda Andrews lives in Phoenix, Arizona with her husband, three children and a menagerie of domesticated animals. Redaction: Extinction Level Event: A Novel of the Apocalypse [Linda Andrews] on Redaction: Extinction Level Event (Part I) and millions of other books are.
Fresh meat. Her attention flickered to the first image and stuck like a gold-medal gymnast on landing. What can I get for you today? Sunnie stroked the ponytail hanging over her shoulder. And give me a sundae with strawberry topping and nuts. Holding his bottom lip between his teeth, the cashier punched the appropriate buttons.
Saliva glistened on the pink skin in the fluorescent light when he looked up. Anything else? Flinging her ponytail behind her back, Sunnie shook her head and stepped to the side. Shuffling forward, Mavis eyed the spit on his lip. How many bugs clung to his flesh, waiting to launch at her the moment he spoke? She dragged her attention from his mouth and focused on his eyes.
Nice eyes—blue like a clean, mountain lake. Her palm sweated against the bottle of hand sanitizer. Mavis mentally shook herself, removed her hands from her pockets and steadied one on the strap of her leather purse. When his fingers stopped, he read back the order. Is there anything else I can get for you? An elderly team member creaked by with a toy clasped between her gnarled fingers. Plastic crinkled around the plush crocodile in the bag, while powdered desiccant rolled along the bottom crease.
Mavis glanced at her niece before jerking her head toward the blue bin holding a handful of toys. Do you want Snapper, a friend of Hatshepsut? Sunnie rolled her eyes as if searching the inside of her skull for why anyone over twenty was so lame. A second later, she faced front and her eyes narrowed on the cardboard sign at the end of the counter. Because cups with cartoon characters are for adults.
Swallowing a chuckle, Mavis cleared her throat. The cashier nodded, peeked under his lashes at Sunnie, and then pressed a key twice. Mavis swallowed hard. Lord, love a duck! Sunnie bumped her arm, before slapping money on the stainless steel counter. I have a ten. Heat rippled over Mavis, settling in her face. Her fingers slipped off her purse zipper twice, before she managed to grasp the tab. The metal parted with a low growl. This is my treat. Burgers in a Basket accepts credit and debit cards.
How nice for you. The little twerp! The edges of neatly folded bills fanned against the black satin interior. Sunnie drummed her fingers on her ten-dollar bill. Not even when the Redaction was at its height? Mavis winced at the internet term for the Rattling Death. God, how callous the cyber world could be. Pretending the largest influenza pandemic in human history was nothing more than the government eliminating swaths of the population with a black pen.
Not even then. The clerk dipped under the counter for a tray. Water sprinkled the metal surface when he set it down. At least, they were taking their cleaning seriously. Mavis snapped the compartment shut before moving on to the one on the back of her wallet. Credit cards hold less germs than paper or coins, and the clerks get the bonus of not having to touch either—reducing the spread of infection. She had written that memo the first official week of the pandemic.
Greed had stopped many businesses from heeding it. Your company must care about its employees. Or money. After unsnapping the right compartment, she sifted through business cards until she came upon a gift card for the restaurant. She presented the red and green plastic with a flourish before swiping it through the reader. The clerk ducked his head, but not before she saw the whites of his eyes flash. Mavis sighed and filed the card back in her wallet.
The Point of Service machine beeped its approval just as a team member bustled over with two red plastic baskets. Shoestring fries poked through the open weave, while a burger perched on top of the mound of golden slivers of potatoes. The door opened, adding to the buzz of voices inside. Cold crept along the floor to envelop her ankles. Sunnie grabbed her upside-down cup off the tray and skipped over to the soda fountain. While the cashier greeted the newcomers, the machine in front of the wrinkled team member whirred with the contents of her shake.
Mavis sidled away from the family of four. Had they survived intact? Dull gray eyes swept over her to settle on the stack of wooden highchairs. White tipped her knuckles. Muscle roped her neck when she swallowed. For a moment, she squeezed her eyes shut. The motion highlighted the fatigue bruising the delicate skin under her sockets. Guess it was too much to ask for one family to have escaped the pestilence unscathed.
Nodding to the old woman who placed the chocolate shake on the tray, Mavis grabbed the food and turned around. Where was her niece? Faces turned in her direction, but not the one she wanted, no needed, to see. Her heart rate kicked up tempo. Her ears pricked at the sound of her name. There—behind the glass divider—Sunnie waved her pale arm above her head. With a roll of her shoulders, Mavis released the tightness that stretched across her back. It had been silly to think the girl would get sick and die in minutes.
Her stomach roiled as she waded into the seating area. Dodging around a man unstrapping a toddler from a high-chair, she passed a couple absently stuffing fries in their mouths. While their fingers fumbled on the tray for more, their attention jerked from child-to-child-to-child. Eyes never resting on one face too long, never ceasing, never finding the one they desperately wanted to see. Muscle turned to rubber and her knees shook.
Loose fries tumbled across the paper covering the tray. Metal squeaked before a yellow bucket bumped against a bench, jerking her away from her thoughts. With her back toward Mavis, the employee swished her mop from side-to-side. Excuse me. Mavis stepped over the darting mop, and her loafers squeaked on the wet tile. Reaching the table, she plunked down the tray and collapsed on the burnt-orange bench. The vinyl sighed as it adjusted to her weight. Snatching up a napkin, she swept the white granules strewn across the table into a neat pile and caught them in another napkin, folded the bundle and chucked it in the trash can near their booth.
People needed to be more careful with their spilled salt. Clearing her throat, Mavis dusted her hands on her pants. She loved her niece, but God, kids could be such a pain in the ass. She brushed her hand over the tabletop. Nothing sticky. She drew the line at sticky. There was a reason icky rhymed with sticky. Sunnie set her packet of hand wipes on the table, tugged one white cloth out, and then ran the damp towelette over her fingers.
Mavis wrinkled her nose at the alcohol smell. How long before she could have a drink without thinking about the Rattling Death? That was an aberration. Sunnie dropped the towelette. Proper washing involved soap and hot water, not a wipe. Obviously, this outing was stressful for her, too; she just hid it better. Mavis ripped open a packet of ketchup and squirted the red contents onto the paper tray liner.
Can you believe that? Her head bobbed toward the flat-screen TV in the corner above the booth behind them. Mavis stabbed her straw into her milkshake. She never listened to the news anymore. It was too depressing. Let me guess, another suicide-by-cop. Using her teeth, Mavis ripped more ketchup packets open. Boy did that sound cold. True, but cold.
Suicides hit the ten-percent mark last week. The head-shrinkers predicted the number might rise to twenty-five percent by the end of the year. North Korea. Sunny tucked another helping of fries inside her mouth. Why did fools have to think everything was a terrorist attack? How in the world do they plan to fight with half their soldiers dead? I thought the Redaction only had a thirty-five percent fatality rate.
But the classified satellite photos told a far different story. Asia was on fire, and it showed in the smoke permeating the air from Alaska to Florida and the haze swallowing the Phoenix skyline. The Dear Leader underreports bad news. But still Swiveling on the bench seat, Mavis drew the straw to her mouth and pulled hard on her shake.
The sweet, cold creamy taste turned to ash on her tongue. Not just military action. The cot groaned as David Dawson hunched over the acoustic guitar in his lap. His thumb plucked at the string while he adjusted the silver peg heads. David strummed his guitar softly before using his nails to pick out the notes of a lullaby. No more empty spaces in place of unnecessary cots. No more garbage bags for over-ripe corpses.
No more refrigerated trucks needing rotting bodies to be unloaded and dumped into dirt pits—mass graves of the forgotten. His fingers stumbled over G. Before the discordant note faded, he opened his eyes. Hell, he had no one to remember him even before the Redaction took half his unit. More than half. Sixty-three percent to be exact. He had to wear two copper bracelets to have enough room to etch every name. Why leave him behind? Gutierrez had a wife and baby daughter. Martin had two orphaned sons. Washington had his bride. Sweat beaded on his lip.
Four months of civilian life.
He loved those weekends and looked forward to the two-week duty. Not nearly enough to fill the white noise of freedom or the stretch of meaningless down time. Removing the pick from the strap, David switched to a Jim Croce song. He rocked to the rhythm, but his heart thudded to a different beat. The thick, full notes weighted with the emptiness of his future. Six cots away, Michaelson snorted in his sleep and rolled over.
His hand covered his eyes, blocking out the twilight. David forced himself to ease up, to tease the notes from the string, instead of bullying them out. Visit every national park, every scenic wonder, and every large ball of twine in every territory, federal district and state. Light flooded the vestibule at the end of the sixty-four foot long tent.
Moments later, the plywood door hit the shock-cord. The impact rippled along canvas. Yo, Big D! Private Robertson strutted into the barracks. His military gait interrupted by the cocky hitch he adopted when off-duty. David stopped the song before the last chord finished resonating through the guitar. Well shit! If Robertson was calling him Big D, he might be in for a seven-swear word night. Yes, Sir. Big D, Sir! Robertson snapped to attention and saluted like he was performing for a five-star general before flashing his palm.
The camouflage t-shirt of his Active Combat Uniform stretched tight across his muscled chest and rode up the bulging biceps. David checked the urge to laugh. Not that he needed much. You retarded, Private? Must be to keep calling me, sir. I work for a living.