Serendipity

By Carly Fall

An FBI profiler. A party-boy alien. Secrets will change both their lives.

In pursuit of a missing piece of his life, Roman, a stranger to Earth, finds himself in Phoenix, where the nightlife greets him with a bevy of eager women and a deluge of trouble, the likes of which he’s never seen.

For FBI Profiler Olivia Waterhouse, her assigned serial killer case isn’t just a job – it’s personal. When her connection is discovered, she’s quickly moved to a new mystery—one shrouded in secrecy.

A chance encounter with Roman leads to a night of unbridled passion, but it ends with one of them held prisoner in a clandestine government facility.

When they meet again deep in the bowels of a secret military building, the damage has already been done—betrayal and half-truths have caused a rift between them. As they fight to forge an escape plan, an alarming secret unfolds... a secret that will forever change the lives of one of the original Six Saviors.

In order to save themselves, Roman and Olivia will have to trust each other, and in the process, they find out that their lives are far more intertwined than either could have ever imagined.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carly Fall, LLC dba Westward Publishing
• Release date: Aug 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311326157

Book preview

1

The music beats thumped so loud and hard, his bones seemed to rattle within his body. The strobe lights made his world twist and turn and threatened to make his dinner reappear if he stared too long in one direction. The scent of body odor, alcohol, and sex permeated the air—unfortunately, he’d take all of them home with him in his clothing. Servers waited on their tables, their black leather corsets barely able to hang on to their breasts as they smiled, flirted, and hustled for tips, their butt cheeks hanging out of their black leather hot pants.

Ah, yes.

The Black Cuff—the bar in downtown Phoenix that somehow managed to stay off the police radar. A place of debauchery, where sex and drugs were freely shared under the guise of a dance club.

Roman gazed around, once again intrigued, disgusted, and amazed by the humanity present. College jocks dressed in their too-tight T-shirts hung out and tried to look cool while mingling with Goth princesses, all wearing dark clothes and thick, black makeup, while trying to look as miserable as possible. The little rich girls strutted around in their platform heels, not wearing much more than the waitresses, while the bad boys with their tattoos and piercings set their sights on any girl who would spread their legs for them.

He shook his head, and for the millionth time, wondered where he fit in here on Earth. As far as he knew, there existed two aliens and a half-breed Colonist in this bar who didn’t belong in any of the categories he’d defined, and it bothered him a bit. Where did they all fit in?

What’s your flavor tonight? Axel asked from across the table, his dark eyes showing no emotion as he stared out at the throngs of people.

Roman tipped his beer back, taking a long pull as he gazed over the crowd, not really interested in anyone. I’m not sure yet.

Yes, the people who frequented the Black Cuff fascinated him, but he also envied them in a way. Their lives seemed to be led with such freedom. Drugs laid out in the open, ready for consumption. Sex given and received without much consideration.

He, on the other hand, always felt so tightly wound, afraid he would be discovered as an alien among the humans … and almost wishing someone would find out so he could stop hiding who he truly was. For some reason, concealing his SR44ian heritage made him feel like a liar.

By sleeping with human women, he felt like he played a dangerous game, one that gave him a thrill. Would one of them somehow figure it out? He didn’t know how that would happen because he looked and acted like a human male, except when the sun went down and his eyes lit up fluorescent blue. But, what if a woman did discover his secret? What would she say? What would she do?

He wasn’t out to scare anyone, not by any means. Frankly, a lot of times, he didn’t really understand why he came down here looking for sex. The closest he’d come to an explanation had been that, for a while, he did belong, and he was accepted.

You’ve probably banged half the chicks in here, Roman, Blake said from his left. The other half didn’t find you very appealing.

He began to argue, but then realized the male could be right. He saw a few faces he recognized, but after a while, they all began to look the same.

He leaned in toward Blake. I don’t even know why you’re here. I can take care of myself.

Blake grinned and shook his head. Yeah, because you’ve proven that over and over.

Sighing, he flipped him the bird. So he’d gotten stabbed a while back trying to hit on a woman. He really didn’t think he’d done anything to upset her, but apparently, she’d found his pick-up line a little offensive.

Blake continued. Roman, you can’t ask a woman if her body is from McDonald’s, then tell her that you’re loving it.

Blake roared with laughter, and Axel actually cracked a bit of a smile, something that didn’t happen very often. Blake had been the one to tell him to use that line. He’d said the females loved it. Instead of getting laid, he’d almost died.

Roman took another long pull of his beer. You’re really funny, Blake.

Blake wiped his eyes. Ah, come on, man. I didn’t know it would get you stabbed. I already said I was sorry.

Roman ignored him and glanced at Axel. It seemed odd to see the male sort of smile given how he spent most of his time looking like a hot rage would come to the surface at any second. He didn’t say much, but Roman knew he observed everything and everyone around him with that dead, flat glare.

Axel’s smile completely faded. If it hadn’t happened to you, you would be laughing as well, Roman.

Glancing around again, the gnawing urge hit him. He craved something, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. This large swath of humans from every walk of life had to provide him with it, but he didn’t know how to go about getting it, especially since he couldn’t even define ‘it.’

Their waitress approached, and her ample breasts bobbed, even after she’d stopped in front of their table. You boys need anything else?

He studied her make-up-free face and pegged her at about twenty-five. She wore her long, blonde hair in a ponytail on each side of her head, her large blue eyes looking so innocent as she gazed at them. Her whorish clothing seemed like such a contradiction to her looks, but she probably did well in tips because of the inconsistency. A lot of males would love a piece of the sweet, pure girl with the huge knockers.

I’ll have another beer.

Axel shook his head, and Blake gripped his glass of Sprite with both hands, his face suddenly pale.

The server nodded. I’ll be right back with your beer, sugar.

Although he hadn’t gotten the full story, he’d heard that Blake had had a really awful period in his life and that this place had played a big role in his downward spiral.

Blake could be the biggest dick he’d ever known, beside Axel, but right now, concern washed through him for the male.

You okay, man?

The half-breed nodded. I think I better get out of here. I’m getting some nasty cravings.

Axel nodded. I’ll go with you. I’m done watching Lover Boy try to figure out his next conquest.

They moved out of the booth, and Blake placed his hand on his shoulder. You be good out here, my friend. Don’t get yourself into any trouble.

He nodded. I’ll catch up with Hudson and Kade later after their patrols to get a ride home.

Sounds good. See you in the morning.

He watched his friends weave their way through the crowd toward the front door, and he became antsy. His leg bobbed under the table as he pulled off the label from his finished beer. Maybe he should head back to the silo, as well, because he didn’t see any females that piqued his interests.

The server returned and set his beer down. Did your friends take off?

He nodded.

She leaned in and he glanced at her breasts. Certainly, they’d pop out of the corset end up in his face at any second, and he didn’t know if that would be considered a good thing or a bad thing.

You know, I get off in an hour. If you’re interested, my apartment’s around the corner. I’ve got some whiskey, killer weed, and a shitload of condoms.

He didn’t mind whiskey, had never tried drugs, but he liked the sound of condoms. However, he didn’t feel like fully committing to her idea. Why don’t you come find me at the end of your shift?

Her face fell. In case you get a better offer?

Shutting his eyes, he grimaced. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. He gazed at her and smiled, hoping to smooth over his blunder. No. I just may not be around that long, that’s all. I have to go meet my friends.

She stared at him for a beat. I’ll see if I still feel like fucking you senseless, and if I do, I’ll find you. If not, I’ll find someone else.

Ouch. Well, he supposed he deserved that.

After she went to her next table, he got up and grabbed his beer. He needed to use the restroom, then he’d decide what he wanted to do.

As he passed the bar, he saw her and stopped in his tracks.

She sat on a stool, her back ramrod straight. She wore her black hair close to the scalp, and a white, silk shirt stood out against her ebony skin. His heartbeat quickened as he took in her thin face, hazel eyes, and full mouth. As she chatted with another woman, she smiled, her straight white teeth gleaming beneath the lights.

She’s different.

Yes, the way she held herself, her looks, the way she dressed … she wasn’t like anyone else in here.

She didn’t belong in the Black Cuff, and he immediately became attracted to that idea.

He approached her, his gaze never leaving her face while nervous butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

Her friend turned and walked toward the restrooms, and he took a deep breath as he closed the distance between them, determined not to screw this one up.

---

Olivia Waterhouse sighed as she glanced around the bar. She hated this place, and every other meat market like it. She’d never set foot into an establishment like this, except she was trying to understand her younger, dead, half-sister Vicky’s life. She’d come with Bailey, her sister’s roommate who said Vicky loved the place. Even thought a few years separated Olivia and Vicky, she’d always felt the girl seemed really immature. Considering the way they’d grown up, she supposed she’d been forced to mature quickly—one of them had had to show some responsibility.

She sighed again, able to see why Vicky had liked the bar. The girl had always been a bit of a wild child, always walking the fine line of having too much fun and getting into trouble. Olivia had stayed on the straight and narrow. Nope—the drugs, the deafening techno-music, and sex were not her scene. Give her a quiet jazz bar any day.

She had arrived in town two months ago when the police had identified Vicky’s body and told her it was the work of a serial killer. As a FBI psychologist specializing in serial killers, she’d immediately gotten clearance to come to Phoenix and study the evidence, and hopefully put together a psychological profile about the killer. Of course, she hadn’t told her bosses that one of the victims in the case was her sister because that would be a direct conflict of interest, one that could get her fired if they found out. She’d taken that risk because on a personal level, she wanted to be the one to put her sister’s killer away.

However, she had been finding it difficult to keep her personal feelings about Vicky separate from the case, although initially, she thought she could. She’d been upset when she arrived in Phoenix, and she had to admit, her emotions swept from angry to depressed at the drop of a hat. They had begun to take their toll as she’d lost her appetite—therefore dropping a few pounds—slept only a few hours at a time, and found it hard to concentrate on anything. In fact, if she didn’t start to feel better soon, she’d have to consider recusing herself. Right now, she should be at home trying to get some sleep instead of sipping drinks in this damn place.

As for remaining in this bar, she was more than ready to head back to her small apartment just a couple blocks away, near the police department. She finished the rest of her vodka and soda and hoped Bailey would be back soon and accept that she wanted to leave. If the girl wished to stay, Olivia wasn’t afraid to walk home by herself.

A man approached her, and she sighed. This would be the third time a guy had hit on her in the past hour. They had all been pretty straight-forward and let their intentions be known: they wanted to buy her a drink, then get into her pants.

He leaned in and shouted above the music. Hi.

She couldn’t help but grin at the pretty boy. He seemed like he didn’t quite belong here, either. Dressed in low-slung jeans, a white button-down shirt open at the collar, and a nice pair of leather shoes, he stood out from most of the men who seemed to be in what she would call a ‘bar uniform’—tight black T-shirts, jeans, and a leather jacket. She had to admit, the man had it going on in the looks department with his dark hair, dark eyes, smooth skin, high cheekbones, and full mouth.

Hello.

Although goose bumps traveled over her skin and her cheeks warmed as he stared at her, she wasn’t interested in a one-night stand. Maybe if she didn’t show any interest to begin with, he’d move along quicker.

He came close again, and she smelled him. A bit of sandalwood soap, but thankfully, no strong aftershave.

Is your name Angel?

She furrowed her brow and shook her head. No. You have me confused with someone else.

He tilted his head. Are you sure? I ask because you’re so pretty, I thought you might have been sent from Heaven.

After letting his words sink in for a moment, she burst out laughing. It had to be the worst pick-up line she’d ever heard, and she had to give him points for having the balls to throw that one out on the table.

His cheeks reddened, but he grinned at her.

When she regained her composure, she stuck out her hand. Yes, it was the worst, and the best, line of the night, and she found it a bit endearing. No, I’m Olivia from Virginia.

He wrapped his hand around hers, his skin warm, his grasp firm but not too tight. Roman. It’s nice to meet you, Olivia from Virginia.

She couldn’t help but notice he held on just a little too long, and she became a bit uncomfortable. Clearing her throat, she gently pulled her hand away.

He stared at her a moment, then brought his lips to her ear. Would you like to dance with me?

No offer to buy her a drink, which surprised her. She glanced at the dance floor, the bodies writhing in time to the beat, reminding her of an ant colony all marching together in unison.

This wasn’t her scene. She didn’t dance—not like that, anyway.

I promise not to bite.

The second vodka had hit home, and she had relaxed a bit. What could one dance with an incredibly good-looking guy hurt? Not like she was going to rush to bed with him. She had to work in the morning, so she couldn’t be up all night.

Bailey came back as she stood, and Olivia leaned down to talk to her. I’m dancing with this guy, then I’m going home.

Bailey nodded, and Roman took Olivia’s hand and led her to the dance floor, pulling her into the middle of the crowd.

Their bodies pressed together from the sheer force of everyone around them. She stood a couple inches shorter than him, which proved a nice change as she was six feet. He moved with grace, his gaze never leaving her, and she tried not to think about her breasts rubbing against his chest or the very sexual nature of all these bodies squirming together around her.

After a few moments, she got knocked from behind and fell into him, grabbing his shoulders while he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Their mouths ended up inches apart, and she caught a hint of beer on his breath. Her heart pounded in her chest as she grasped his biceps, which felt like two large rocks beneath his sleeves.

Between the vodka, the rhythmic thumping of the music, and his incredible good looks, heat bloomed in her belly as her nipples hardened, and her breath caught in her throat.

He leaned down, their lips brushing gently against each other’s as he ran his hand up her back. Her breath hitched at the simple kiss—a promise of amazing things to come, if she were willing. But, it didn’t seem to be only a sexual attraction—there was more to it—something she didn’t fully understand, something that scared her a bit.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped back and got her bearings again. She smiled at him and brought her hand up to her lips that still tingled from his kiss.

This wasn’t her. She didn’t kiss men she’d just met. She didn’t frequent places like this. Instead, she lived her life on the straight and narrow and never strayed far from the carefully crafted path she’d blazed for herself.

Roman stared at her with lust and longing. His lips had parted, his dark eyes studied her intensely. He must have felt the powerful connect between them, as well.

Without another word, she turned and headed for the door, scared of the man, the kiss, and this immense longing for him that ached in her lower belly. This night would be ending right now, and tomorrow, she’d wake up and she’d forget this man, this moment, and everything would be back to normal.

2

Roman stood in the middle of the mindless bodies moving to the music, watching her go. A part of him wanted to chase after her, but he didn’t. What the hell had just happened?

His lips still burned from the kiss, a kiss he’d never meant to give. It just … happened. Perhaps it had been the sexually charged atmosphere, or maybe the way her body felt so right pressed against his. He didn’t understand it, and frankly, it had been a little unnerving.

She headed for the door, and finally, he could move. He waited to see if her friend left with her, but she walked out alone. Taking a deep breath, he followed. No way would he allow her to walk the city streets by herself. Yes, the murder rates had come to a standstill since the Colonist, Daniel’s, death, but a woman walking alone in any city could find danger, whether from a Colonist offspring or some douchebag human.

He stuck to the shadows as he trailed her, keeping her in his sights. Her long legs carried her with grace, the tap of her heels against the pavement sounding of sure footing and determination to get to her destination.

When she rounded the corner and the police station came into view, he sighed with relief. No one would be stupid enough to attack a female as she walked by the building. Still, he stood and watched her from a distance. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he found his lips still warm and his heart pounded wildly … all from one simple kiss.

Suddenly, a palm landed on his shoulder, and he jumped and turned around. Taking a fighting stance, he prepared to battle.

Easy there, handsome, Hudson said, taking a step back and lifting his hands to shoulder height. Didn’t mean to scare you.

His adrenaline ebbed, and he let out a long breath. Well, then, how about approaching with ‘hi,’ or ‘Hey, Roman?’

Kade rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Or, you could just pay attention to your surroundings