The Connection: Two Worlds. One Connection.

By Dana Claire

Beatrice Walker thought she was a normal high schooler living in a normal world-that is until she learned she's a living hostel for an alien energy source, whose power will prevent the universe's extinction.

Beatrice and her non-human-and annoyingly gorgeous-bodyguard Cash are part of a prophetic plan whose outcome to save their planets lies in th

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chamberlain Publishing House
• Release date: Dec 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781792355547

Book preview

One

Cash

One week ago

The lights of the long industrial corridor flickered as I sprinted beneath them, my adrenaline pumping in sync with the blares of the alarms. My team followed somewhere behind, their footfalls distant echoes, but I’d always outmatched them for speed. I was, perhaps, the fastest being on my planet, but today, unadulterated anger fueled my speed, not my raw ability. Seraphina was dead, and someone was going to pay, human or otherwise.

Three guards rounded the bend ahead. I skidded to a halt, falling low and twisting my body so that my feet took out the DOAA agents’ legs. I laughed mirthlessly in their faces as they drew their Ferroean daggers against me. With reflexes three times faster than these humans’, I executed an aerial somersault over the closest standing adversary, grabbing his neck-tie mid-air and cradling it like a noose around his throat when I landed. I wanted to kill him but settled for a choke out. I tightened my hold, using him as a shield against the second agent’s tapered blade until he slumped to the ground. The third DOAA agent’s hand shook as he brandished his dagger at me. The organization’s acronym was etched along the side, marking it as property of the Department of Alien Affairs. True, it was the only weapon that could kill me or my kind on Earth. But that didn’t mean I feared it. Or him.

First time holding that, kid, or first time intending on using it? I sneered.

Not many DOAA agents had to fight us. Ferro’s government wasn’t at war with Earth, and we generally came in peace. Which was good for them—we could overtake most humans without batting an eye. This kid—a new recruit, no doubt— didn’t stand a chance against me. Still, I welcomed the effort, futile as it was. Part of me wanted to be put out of my misery.

He adjusted his stance, feet wide and knees bent.

You sure about this? I taunted, nodding toward his unconscious partner.

Captain Kingston, the Director just wants to talk to you. His voice cracked with the hormones of a prepubescent human.

My laugh was bitter and cruel. Director Dod wanted to talk. My girlfriend was murdered, and these humans wanted to talk. A swift uppercut to the boy’s jaw flipped him backward. His head bounced off the wall, and he collapsed on his side. I turned just in time to see something sharp and shining coming at my side.

The first agent I’d dropped with a leg swipe. How could I forget about him?

I dodged, but the blade nicked my tactical jacket as I spun away. That was close. Far too close. In my rage, I hadn’t incapacitated him. Sloppy. Perhaps I wanted to end it all here more than I thought.

Shaking away the morbid thought, I grabbed the wrist wielding the dagger and twisted violently. There was a sickening crack, and the agent’s cry mingled with the blade’s clatter against the sterile flooring. He crumpled, curling up into a ball around his broken appendage.

Disgusted with his fragility, I resumed my flight down the corridor, rounding the bend into a pervasive, deafening silence. My mind filled with the faint sound of my sister’s voice calling my name. Steeling myself, I slowed and tread purposefully toward the doors at the end of this new hall. I didn’t bother to slow as I waved my hands in front of them to release the locking mechanism. I stepped inside the room and came to a complete stop, stunned.

A lone metal table stood in the center of the dimly lit room. Strands of Seraphina’s jet-black hair draped over its edge, her prone body covered by a white sheet. Wires strung from her arms to machines that towered over me. They were keeping her fresh, as they called it on Earth—preserved for transit back to Ferro.

My sister drooped in a dark corner, watching as I pulled back the cloth. Energy from the source inside me crackled over my skin and coursed through my veins, settling into a steady hum. The last vestiges of hope that it was all a lie, a trick, winked out. It was Sera. Her final memory stretched out to me in sound waves, urging the energy source inside my chest to read her message before anyone else could.

The hope that she would tell me how she died shone as a pinprick of light in the overwhelming darkness of my grief. I would find who was responsible. I would make them—and anyone else who got in my way—suffer in ways they couldn’t even imagine in their vilest nightmares.

My pulse timed itself with the pounding footsteps out in the corridor, leaving me with only seconds to connect to the energy source stored within her chest. My sister’s hitched breath made me pause. I wanted to mourn the body beneath the sheet. I wanted to touch her one last time, but I couldn’t allow my emotions to take hold of me.

I moved the sheet back a couple more inches, exposing her scar—the perfect twin of mine. I traced the ridge of the diamond-shaped marking before pressing my finger gently into her flesh at its center. A tingling, not-quite-painful sensation accompanied the memory that flooded through the connection, soaking my mind with Seraphina’s last seconds on this planet.

She lay on a metal table, covered in grime, in what appeared to be a cave. Two deadly cuts lacerated her right ankle and right wrist. Sweat sprinkled her brow. Blood dotted her lips—lips I had kissed a thousand times but never would again. Traces of bruising in hues of deep purple dotted her jawline. Seraphina gasped, and a voice that was familiar but not at all her own expelled from those lips. My daughter, the voice urged, you need to protect my daughter. She holds the key. You need her, and she needs you. Remember the safehouse I told you about? Start there. Go now. There’s little time. Find her, Cash, please. Crede Mihi.

The last bit of her energy hurled me backward across the room, slamming my back against the wall. I opened my eyes to find my sister kneeling above me. Her tears landed on my chest as she cupped my face.

I gasped for air, confusion hitting me all at once. It wasn’t her voice. It was Faye’s.

Two

Beatrice

Present Day

Chris leaned his hip against the locker next to mine. Those piercing blue eyes danced between Darla and me. So . . . Wearing his annoying smirk, Chris lowered his voice. Have you heard who’s back at Cartwright High?

Taking the bait, I answered, No, who? Not like I cared, after the morning I’d had. Dad was freaking, asking me a hundred parental questions. What time will you be home? How long is track practice? Have you gotten an oil change for your car recently? Maybe you should today after school. I don’t like you driving that old thing if you don’t keep her up to date on repairs. I’d wanted to roll my eyes right out of my head.

I stuffed my English textbook into my messenger bag. An exposed safety pin snagged the back of my hand, and I winced—Darla’s handiwork. Twenty-five safety pins and almost as many prick marks later, I was ready to kill her creative juices and forbid her from altering anything again, even in the name of fashion.

Darla huffed, expelling the same exasperation I was feeling toward both of them right now. You’re so annoying, Chris. Just tell us.

He glared at her but spat it out. The Kingstons and the Flannerys.

Darla’s bag slipped through her hand and smacked the ground. Her books spilled onto the green-and-white checked floors. Welp, that got her attention. No way! How do you know?

How do you think? The queen of gossip, Kathleen Butler, has been telling everyone, Chris said.

They both wore starstruck looks that didn’t waver when I asked, Who are the Kingstons and the Flannerys? Why is that a big deal? Blood bubbled below my knuckle, and I sucked my hand to stop the minor cut from ruining my clothes.

Darla stared at me with a wild expression I, unfortunately, knew too well. Only two topics piqued Darla’s bloodhound instincts: hot boys and hotter boys. Do you remember when we were paging through my junior yearbook, and you said, ‘This guy’s gorgeous. What’s his deal?’

Maybe. He had a twin sister or something, right?

Yep, that was Cash Kingston and his sister, Tasha. Darla crossed her arms over the guitarist’s lizard-like tongue depicted on her shirt. Her apple-red lips curled into a devilish grin. Rumor has it a talent agency discovered them and the Flannery triplets before you moved back here, and they went to Los Angeles. Just picked up and left.

I’d only been back in town for two months since middle school. A tang of jealousy for my missed time slid down my throat and swam in my stomach.

I don’t see why they didn’t ask me. Chris gestured to his physique. I could model. I’m blonde with blue eyes, tall, and the star of Cartwright’s baseball team. Some have even called me dreamy. He bared his pearly whites and posed with an imaginary bat.

Yeah, who? Your mother? Darla laughed, pushing him out of his stance.

I rolled my eyes as I pulled another book from my locker. So, why are they back, then? And who cares? I avoided the death pins as I shoved the fat English book behind the science notebook in my bag.

Darla and Chris didn’t even hear me. Instead, they froze and stared over my head.

No, correction. Chris stared. Darla salivated. She looked like a hungry lion eying a raw steak. I had a feeling I knew what they were looking at, or should I say whom. Curiosity got the best of me, and I turned.

The yearbook did not do them justice. Did the Twilight vampires get tans? Seriously, these five were beautiful. I instantly recognized the boy in the middle from Darla’s yearbook—Cash Kingston. His chest and arms were ripped. I’d like to get a hold of his workout plan. That boy had no body fat. Something about his eyes were wrong, though. As he drew closer, I saw a mirage of deep purple, red, and green circling the sapphire blue of his irises. In a flash, a white core pulsed through the black pupil. I had seen eyes like this before. In my dreams. I blinked, and dark blue eyes replaced the kaleidoscope. I shook my head. Was I losing it?

Two blonde boys flanked Cash—equally buff and striking, but somehow boring, comparatively speaking. Not the boys you bring home to your parents. At least not my dad. It’d be a cold day in hell before Dad let this crew into our home. But they didn’t scream hide your babies like Cash did. He was straight-up terrifying.

The stoic girl on the right looked exactly like Cash. That had to be his sister, Tasha. The same dark brown hair, wavy and thick, but down to her butt. The same high cheekbones but dusted with rose blush.

As they passed my locker, the gang broke up. The two on the left went into the adjacent classroom, the two on the right never slowed, but Cash stopped right in front of me. The world around him blurred. I wanted to run—even hide if I could fit into my locker. But I couldn’t. I was paralyzed.

My heartbeat picked up as he leaned into my personal space. His breath tickled my cheeks. And his rainbow eyes—the colors swirling like an oil spill around the white center—were back, toying with me. A feeling of familiarity tugged at a memory too distant to recover. I snatched for it, stretching deep into my mind, but a painful jolt inside my left breast flung it out of reach.

He growled low in his throat. At first, I thought I’d misheard. But the hairs on my arms didn’t. They stood at attention.

I stepped backward and knocked into the lockers. The cold metal stung my exposed skin, and I realized I looked like a dork. The small distraction broke Cash’s trance, hardening his expression. His eyes narrowed, darkening to a stormy blue. His mouth thinned into a straight line as he ran his hand through his thick, dark hair. Tension rolled off his shoulders in waves. Things just got majorly weird.

You’re blocking my locker. Cash ground his teeth.

My legs betrayed me, locked in place while I shuddered.

Move, he growled.

I begged my body to obey. Right or left. With a deep breath, I finally managed to shift left. Cash pounded his fist on the door once, and it popped open. He slipped a book out of the top shelf, closed it with more force than necessary, and then continued down the hall like nothing happened.

Oh my goodness. Darla grabbed my biceps and squeezed. She shoved her face so close to mine I could smell her coffee breath. What the sugar snaps was that?

My thoughts exactly—although Darla’s swearing vocabulary was far more varied and vanilla than mine, to get around her strict mother’s policies. Cash had looked at me with such hatred. It’s not like I knew that was his locker. And his eyes… I shuddered.

Chris waved his hand in my face, wafting his cologne. Earth to Bea. You in there? When I didn’t answer, he crinkled his nose at Darla. I think he stunned her. Do the Kingstons have magical powers now? I wouldn’t be surprised.

Fire ignited in my core. Magical movie star or not, Cash didn’t have to be such a…

Douchebag! I finished aloud.

Oh, good. She’s alive. Chris rolled his eyes. We could have told you that. They aren’t the friendliness crew. It’s probably best if you stay away and refrain from any fangirl ogling.

The issue? Cash was gorgeous. I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t ogle-inducing—but I also feared him. And I had no idea why.

Darla looped her arm through mine and grabbed both our bags from the ground. Come on. Let’s get you to class before you combust. She spun me around and waggled her fingers over my shoulder. See you later, Chris.

By the time we reached English, I’d calmed down. We hurried to our seats just as the bell rang. But my momentary contentment came to a screeching halt, Darla’s dismayed expression slamming the breaks. Her eyes traveled over my head as I mouthed, What’s wrong?

Before she answered, a shock rippled through my chest and my body jerked. I turned in my seat impulsively, and my mouth dropped open for the second time that day.

Could I have worse luck?

You following me? Cash cocked his brow with disdain. Do I have to get a restraining order on my first day back? His arms crossed, stretching his t-shirt and accentuating the ripples underneath.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, but my traitorous voice never found a way to my mouth. Instead, I turned around and gripped the sides of my desk for support. Darla cringed sympathetically before turning her focus to Mr. Mack, our English teacher.

Not even a minute of peace had passed before the acid reflux burning my chest returned. Again, I had the urge to twist in my seat, and I found Cash staring at me like some rare wildlife. He hated me. That was obvious.

What? I scowled, massaging my chest.

Cash’s eyes followed my movement. I was concerned you were mute. Now that we have that cleared up, what’s your name?

Words caught in my throat. My name?

Cash uncrossed his arms and closed the space between us. The heat of his breath grazed my skin for a second time, warming the chill splintering through my body. His lips were suddenly too close to mine.

Your name? I’m starting simple. His voice was deep and throaty. Both his eyebrows raised to his dark hairline.

Frustration swelled in my chest. I choked out. Why?

Cash smiled, annoyingly smug. Well, I’ll need it for the restraining order. He tipped his head sideways, waiting for a reaction.

Next to Cash, Kathleen, Cartwright’s famous blonde busybody, snickered. My cheeks were probably stained dark pink for life.

You… You’re an… The words tangled around my tongue. Finally, I managed to spit them out. Asshat!

Cash threw his hands over his heart melodramatically and leaned back in pretend offence. Aw, don’t get your panties in a bunch over me. I’ve been called a lot worse. He winked.

I could only imagine. In my mind, a list of detention-worthy names reared their ugly heads, but I bit my lip and faced the front.

By some terrible twist of fate, we shared the same schedule. Cash’s glare followed me all day. By the end of last period, my stomach had coiled into so many knots, I felt like a wrung-out washcloth. After English, I positioned myself far away from him in each class, but the heat of his hate-filled glances still singed my pride and my cheeks, even though I tried not to care. The strange low hum in my chest persisted, too. It was as if my body had picked up a staticky radio station. At lunch, Chris asked me if I had done something to piss Cash off. By the end of the day, Darla was convinced I had.

I left Coach Barb a message that I’d miss track practice after school. I never missed track. I was the star runner. Coach Barb said she’d never seen a human run as fast. Feeling the ground under my feet and the cool air against my face comforted me. I hadn’t had a lot of relief since my mom died.

But today, I didn’t think I could make it around the course without vomiting from the severe acid burn in my chest. Maybe I was coming down with something.

After the final bell, I walked out to the parking lot, and the late fall breeze graciously cooled my boiling blood. The reflection from the setting sun shone on my rusted yellow Beetle convertible, and I stopped dead in my tracks. Strange honey-like goo covered the ground and my car. What on earth is this? I searched for a nearby tree, thinking it might be sap. Nope. Nothing. The closest vegetation was a row of bushes outlining the lot entrance three rows away. I shook my head in outraged disbelief. My car might not be brand-new, but she didn’t deserve to be a garbage disposal. Someone must have thrown remnants of their lunch on my car instead of a trash can. I opened the door, careful to avoid the gook, and slipped into the driver’s seat. At least the defacer had missed my windshield. I shoved the keys into good ol’ Betsey and threw her into reverse. Taking out all my anger, frustration, and embarrassment on the gas pedal, I floored it down the highway toward home.

As I pulled into the pebbled driveway, I noticed two unfamiliar cars: a black SUV and a black sedan. Both license plates were unmarked, and both cars had tinted windows. Anxious memories spread a chill across my skin. The only time I had ever seen cars like this was after my mother died. Strange detectives showed up. They had no identification, asked my father questions unrelated to the accident, and searched our whole house, leaving it in complete disarray. The next day, Dad announced we were moving back to Pennsylvania.

Panic squeezed my lungs, restricting my breath as that familiar sense of melancholy swelled into an overwhelming feeling of dread. Leaving the keys dangling from the ignition, I swung Betsey’s door open and flew to the front door. My feet barely touched the gravel.

Inside, I slowed. Multiple voices trickled out of the living room. I clutched my chest where acid burned my heart. Did something happen to Dad? I was going to invest in Tums after this. I swallowed in an attempt to alleviate the pain while cocking my right ear to listen in better.

Are you sure? My dad’s voice was low—fierce. He was okay.

Yes. I think I’d know her, a bitter male voice answered, raising goosebumps along my arms.

I’m sorry, Robert, but it’s true, said a youthful female voice laced with concern. It’s inside her.

But how? Why?

I have no idea. But good thing you ran. The whole agency is looking for you, the unfamiliar male spoke again. "I’m lucky I knew about