Deception

By Anke Zet

From the Doctor-and-Author, Anke Zet, comes a story like no other!
This well-woven, action-packed mystery contains secrets, romance, and murder. Scenes of zesty disputes, humorous and tear-jerker moments are set in the realms of Twilight (without Vampires) with an exciting futuristic twist and will keep you spellbound long after you've finished. Welcome to the UNEARTHLY TALENTS SERIES Deception / Book one: When love spans a galaxy - it’s meant to be!
When twenty-three years old Ellie moves from the city to Finke National Park she hopes to understand the unusual death of her mother from two decades ago. While all passengers lie asleep hypnotised, Ellie’s cyber-awareness prevents her. Though she falls asleep and dreams of a beautiful stranger she wakes up and unknowingly witnesses a crime.
Via Tristan, an attractive man she happens across on the airplane, she gets connected to his brother Sebastan, who resembles her dream-man. Little do the lovers know, the strong physical connection they feel; has been manipulated by a government from a far away planet called Thept.
Sebastan will lead Ellie not only to discover her mother’s fate, her own family’s secret, but also to the plane crime and other similar ones.
Entangled in a conspiracy that started more than a century ago, the alien’s search for a super gene has come to earth and will endanger not only Ellie but her whole family, including her adopted sister Bree.
Blurb:
Earth woman Ellie is not the kick-ass heroine like her gran and sister. Struggling with her mum’s unusual death and her heritage; giving her uncommon powers; Ellie is a constant worry for them. Ordinary life is an obstacle course. When two alien brothers enter her life and she falls for Sebastan, everything changes.
Sent to Earth under the pretence to collect DNA and eliminate criminals, the brothers’ family’s true purpose is to search for the offspring of the missing alien who carried a powerful gene...Alien authorities want it back. Gene-manipulated Sebastan will lure what rightfully belongs to them and shouldn’t be allowed on a prison planet.
Ellie doesn’t realise, that underneath her awkward exterior, embedded deep into her genes lies this power and a legacy others would kill for... which endangers Ellie and all her loved ones. (Book1)

The Unearthly Talent Series is a suspenseful, soft-sci-fi romance for adults (or NewAdults) Book one/Deception set in 2025 where a young woman wants to unravel the cause of her mother’s unusual death because she fears it’s related to her own unearthly talents.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anke Zet
• Release date: Jan 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9780645185485

Anke Zet

Anke loves creativity of any kind (*Creativity is a drug I cannot live without- Cecil DeMille) and has been part in many projects initiated by her writer’s group: the SSOW (Secret Society of Words).Known to surprise friends with rhymes for any occasion she’s now considered venturing into the world of publishing; encouraged, after finishing the first book ‘Deception’ of her sci-fi romance trilogy ‘Unearthly talents’.A graduate with a Doctor of Medicine, she moved from the UK to Australia in 2003 with her husband and two children. She currently works as a part-time GP on the beautiful south coast, when she’s not succumbing to her drug of choice*: writing anything that pops into her head without rhyme or reason.Although, sometimes it rhymes; and mostly it has reason.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

2006 - Tumestan

---

One Hollie was dead, now another.

He had a pretty good idea why.

Not prone to crying, he sat in his Chesterfield swivel chair, elbows resting on the study desk overlooking the lush-green of his Adelaide estate, face in his hands. His throat tight and dry, moisture accumulated in his eyes.

Why hadn’t he seen it coming?

She could have asked him.

Instead, Hollie had chosen defiance. She’d run into the woods with something that didn’t belong to her and had no idea how to use.

How had she figured it out? When had she stolen the box containing the tools for creating a portal? He’d never find out now; although, one day, maybe he would. Thepts had their ways.

He wiped a tear from his face.

His left fist shaky, he kept pressing it onto his heart.

The death shouldn’t surprise him. A lot of people with this gene died young, not because it caused an illness but for the begrudging of others, most often family members. People with this gene were hunted, kidnapped, driven to despair and suicide – or murdered.

---

The ability was kept a secret, the child educated by a past-master and memories of the person they’d acceded from.

Hollie had none of that.

Had they realised their precious gift had escaped, that it’d been taken from their planet? Would they come looking for it now?

Earth was the one place it should never have gone to, the abandoned planet, the planet reserved for the most narcissistic, aggressive kind. Albeit their humans showed a high genetic potential that was tapped into from time to time. Earth was the second of the four planets his ancestors had sought out to house individuals with specific characteristics – characteristics that had been determined by an algorithm centuries ago.

Had his sacrifices, his mission to protect the gene, panned out after all these years of doubt?

The flicker of hope was dashed by a larger one of alarm – or just the opposite?

Time would tell.

The bigger question now was: How could he protect the next one in line?

CHAPTER 1

—————2025—————

Freshly baked brownies

The window of the car opened at my touch and Gran leant in to see me off. My sister Bree was driving me to the airport, so I could start a new chapter in my life away from those two meddling, interfering women, I loved dearly.

‘Talent is an accident of genes – and a responsibility,’ Gran quoted with a determined chin-drop and a one-eyed wink I was pretty sure I was to take seriously.

‘Have a good flight, Dearie,’ she said.

‘There is no such thing as a good flight for me.’ The hypnophones would take care of that.

The pebbles of the driveway crunched under the wheels as the car pulled away and I waved a kiss to my favourite person. Gran waved back, her sad face lingering in my mind.

‘Why did you take the job, El? It’s so far away, I can’t keep an eye on you,’ Bree complained a few minutes later, hitting the same dint as Gran. It was her last chance to change my mind.

‘It’s an outdoorsy job.’

‘There are plenty of those around Adelaide.’

‘Not with aggressive bee colonies though.’

Bree sighed and shook her head. A while later, she asked, ‘I was just thinking about that quote gran threw at you. Talent is an accident - and what was it?’

‘Talent is an accident of genes – and a responsibility. It’s Alan Rickman.’

I sighed. Fuck genes and fuck talent. What I wouldn’t give for a taste of ordinary. Taking responsibility for something I didn’t ask for was also as endearing as a pile of dirty dishes and about as inspiring as dead moss on a bonsai.

‘I guess what Gran meant was to not let my freakishness ruin my life.’

‘She has a point.’

I snorted.

Bree elbowed me. ‘Joking! It’s just … we both worry what will happen to you without us. You know, I won’t be there to find your lost school jumpers and all.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘I’ll be fine, I’m not fifteen anymore.’

We were quiet for a while after that. I let myself drift into the ether of thoughts that weren’t all my own, existing in another dimension. It was an intriguing void, consisting of swirls of fairy floss in the atmosphere, spun from letters of the alphabet I could catch and thread into snippets of information I shouldn’t be able to know. I’d had to keep my access to it a secret ever since Gran realised what I could do.

A curious grey mass whirled around me as I surrendered myself to it, and familiar strands of words and symbols – some morphing into pictures – seized my attention. I focused my mental energy on the gluggy blob of material, unravelling it like a ball of wool.

‘Are the lights on in there?’ Bree waved her hands in front of my face. ‘We’re here.’

‘Oh, sorry. I drifted off.’ I blinked a few times to clear my head.

‘Tell me something new.’ She shook her head. ‘Or, better yet, tell me that, in future, you will focus, keep time, your appointments, and your mouth shut when somebody lies.’

‘Ha-ha.’

Bree grinned, ‘But you need not hang on to your unhealthy self-restraint.’

‘Thanks, it’s called voluntary abstinence. And it’s not unhealthy.’

I sighed. I would have liked to have a love life, yet as it’d been non-existent for a while, it was the reason I had to keep dreaming.

After parking the car, we got out and Bree swung my backpack out of the boot like it weighed nothing.

‘For God’s sake, be careful where you’re going! I can’t scrape you off the road in the outback.’

We both grinned.

‘And wear your glasses, El,’ she pleaded, ‘otherwise you’re not gonna survive five minutes.’

‘Actually, it’s probably the one place where I might survive nicely without them, thank you very much.’

I wasn't naturally clumsy but as my cognitive kink needed mending; the grey mass of the cyber-noise being too heavy in the city; I had to wear special glasses to prevent the irritation of my brain causing unbearable headaches especially when being exposed to it for too long. Those glasses helped but because they caused tunnel vision, they were the reason I stumbled often.

I hated wearing those clunky, old glasses people had always teased me about.

A research grant and a part-time ranger’s job near Alice Springs later, I’d have no need for them.

Vanity and independence were smelling like freshly baked brownies.

---

I was settling into my airplane seat when I noticed the dark-brown hair of the man in the aisle seat opposite, a row in front of me. He smiled. I was contemplating his tired smile and what it meant but got distracted by a flight attendant handing me my hypnophones with a friendly hello.

Hypnophones were introduced in 2023, after an American terrorist hacked into the flight computer via the entertainment system, fatally crashing the aircraft with over seven hundred people on board; now they were legally required to be worn on domestic and international flights.

Designed to ease the stress off of flying, they sent the wearer into a lulling sleep with pleasant dreams as soon as the cap touched the head. With all passengers asleep for the entire duration of the flight, air-travel was instantly safer from attack by accident or will. Hypnophones were also supposed to make the wearer wake up refreshed and relaxed on arrival. Huh, yeah. Right.

Though I hated flying, and the terror of free-falling during turbulence was enough to make me wish for a dead sleep, I would rather endure it than the extreme nightmares the hypnophones plunged me into.

I was so desperate after my disastrous first flight, the dreams causing me anxiety for months afterwards, that I’d secretly researched the HYP centre’s database (HYP was the company which programmed the hypnophones for each passenger). With the help of my special ability to comb through the cyber-noise, I was able to access the instruction manual for the most popular hypnophones design and read the lot. On my second trip, I perfected the few tricky moves needed to switch them off, before putting them on my head. I had to pretend to sleep for the entire flight, but it was better than the alternative.

Soon the airplane taxied into the take-off position, I breathed deeply and clasped my armrests.

---

A stranger was lying on top of me.

I wasn’t afraid. Instead, I accepted his presence as a given, welcoming him with open arms.

My body responded to him in elaborate fashion: heart thumping, my fingers itching to explore his smooth, shiny skin over lean muscle, my mouth keen to taste those lush lips that lay so tantalisingly close.

Time was of no importance. Where was I?

Though my mind was centred on the warm flesh covering my quivering body, the obvious obstacle of the man in bed with me, I was certain I hadn’t visited this place before.

Faster and faster, we moved to our hearts’ rhythm, riding on waves of joy until we both clutched the edge of bliss …

A delicious warmth spread through me as I enjoyed the mutual moment of serenity. Who was this man? Where had I seen him before? Questions pushed to the forefront of my mind. Unanswered, they kept swirling, unrelenting, demanding.

He was completely foreign to me, and yet … his features were so familiar.

---

Before I could grasp the corresponding memory to solve the puzzle, alertness claimed me. I could hear my own ragged breathing coming down from the high, but I wasn’t in that moment anymore. The stranger with those mesmerising green eyes was gone.

A sucking noise had startled me into awareness.

Damn it. Why did I have to wake? It had felt so real. I kept my eyelids shut, trying to hold on to the pictures in my head, revelling in my ebbing release, tiny muscles twitching.

I sighed and blinked; my hands still tightly clasped around my armrests, as if to steady myself from the pelvic excitement. That was the most bizarre dream I’d had for a while.

The man on the opposite aisle seat, one row in front of me, had a shiny cloth stuck around his head. The cloth was sheer but looked heavy, with a metallic shine. It clung tightly onto his shoulders. He seemed peaceful, taking deep, even breaths. Did it help him sleep?

Just before I closed my eyes, hoping to drift back to my precious dream, I peered onto the screen: twenty minutes until Alice Springs.

Through my lashes I was aware of a hand stretching out, pulling the cloth from the man’s head. The revealed passenger looked like sleeping beauty, his cheeks, and lips pale pink. My eyelids drooped and I drifted off into the arms of my handsome stranger with eyes like liquid moss, once more.

---

We finally landed. The plane rolled smoothly along the tarmac, and I breathed deeply, stretching my limbs.

Well, that flight hadn’t been terrible, considering I couldn’t rely on the comfort of the hypnophones like all the other passengers.

I had never heard of anyone having the same problems I had; and, believe me, I’d tried to research it – despite my intense dislike for computers. Nothing had provided any explanation for why my brain rejected the hypnophones, as if it was some kind of torture rather than the embrace others seemed to experience. I accepted it in the end. It wasn’t the only bodily hiccup I had to learn to live with over the years.

Everybody started to move from their seats as the plane stopped. The man in the row in front of me was still fast asleep, hypnophones on, slumped in his seat.

I was about two metres from the exit when I removed my old glasses from the collar of my favourite micro-modal T-shirt. The sensation of the material caressing my skin brought back the recent memory of a hand exploring my curves; my cheeks flushed, and I moved along with a grin. A man stood on the end of the gangway, checking his mobile. As I walked further, he raised his head and gazed steadily into my eyes, a shy smile playing on his lips.

Whoa, what was that? The stranger in front of me had an uncanny similarity to the man in my dream.

His eyes were a most amazing swirl of greens and blues, reminding me of the glimmering feathers of a peacock. His eyelashes were long and light brown, the tips dark, as if dipped in ink.

A beautiful shiver ran through my body; I had loved those eyelashes. My throat tightened and I gaped at him.

‘I’m sorry, sir… It—you—’ I murmured incoherently. Blushing, I looked down and I shook my head. What a brainless moment. A pleasant whiff of freshly cut grass caught in my nostrils as I moved away from him, glad my legs were oblivious to my mind’s utter dishevelment. They carried me along until a hot, dust-filled breeze woke me.

‘No worries,’ he said, his deep voice behind me.

How embarrassing. Gawking like that. But then, he’d returned my stare. Although, if I was honest, he’d been most interested in my boobs. Get a grip, Ellie. It was much more likely the quote on the T-shirt front: ‘I can tell truth from shit. Do tempt me’. Courtesy of my gran and her ‘get-Ellie-more-assertive-campaign’.

Whatever it was, it would be nice to get to know him.

I imagined my psychologist sister trying to deal with the fact a version of my dream-man had materialised not even an hour after he’d appeared in my dream. No doubt she would give me another one of her deep and meaningful, psychoanalytic explanations. Most likely a Freudian dream interpretation, probably linked to my non-existent love-life.

I continued towards the terminal, following the crowd heading for the baggage claim. There was no chance I would get to know him, was there? Silly of me! If he saw me with my geeky glasses on, he would surely retreat.

Just before I entered the terminal, I noticed the crew’s concerned whispering. As I stopped at the baggage claim carousel an ambulance siren sounded, and a rush of people streamed back toward our plane. I remembered the man. Maybe he hadn’t been sleeping? Oh no, and I’d smiled and walked right past him!

A message zoomed towards me through the cyber noise.

>Bree: Hope ur flight was pleasant. Let me know, as soon as u arrive, I want to know ur safe. luv u :)

>Ellie: Arrived safely. Start breathing again. Luv u 2.

I switched my phone off, hoping to avoid more distracting messages while I figured out where I was heading.

---

I waited five minutes after my bag dropped onto the carousel, until all the suitcases and bags had been claimed, not admitting to myself that I was actually waiting around for Mr Dream-Come-True, who never showed. Damn it. I quit hanging around and headed towards the taxi queue. Putting my glasses on, I returned to my normal geeky-looking self, feeling like a teenage fool. For all I knew, he could be married, engaged, in love, gay, yeah – or single.

I slid into the backseat of the taxi. As I closed the car door, I glimpsed dark-blond hair in the queue. Craning his neck around the tall passenger in front of him, he was searching the area. A moment later a smile of recognition crossed his face as his gaze fell across the street to a person in a waiting parked car – probably his girlfriend. I sighed as the taxi rolled onto the street, jumping when the driver asked where I was headed.

---

‘To the Police station please.’

CHAPTER 2

Hypnophones

---

Tristan overheard a strange noise when the cloth from the victim’s head released with a faint hiss. Holding still, he listened intently for more but could only hear the even breaths of the sleeping passengers. He was sure he’d heard somebody whimper. Where did the noise come from? Behind him?

He thought his action was a smart move. Would the universe make him pay in revenge for his heinous deeds? Well, he deserved it. He’d long hated this job of decimating the scum of this planet; although, this particular specimen would probably not have been rehabilitate-able: the country, the world – the universe even – was better off without him.

Had ridding the world of one more heathen been worth it if he’d blown his cover now? He rose from his seat and peered over the edge behind him; a young woman was sitting there, a soft smile playing on her full lips. Her head was leaning against the headrest, her small face framed by waves of reddish-blond, shoulder-length hair; she appeared at ease, still asleep.

Something was off, though; she was squirming slightly in her seat, he could see the rapid heartbeat in her neck, her erratic breathing, and a faint flush in her cheeks. People usually sat still in their chairs once they’d succumbed to the lull of the hypnophones. This woman was different. Her knuckles were white, clenching her hands onto the armrests. Could she have seen, and now was pretending to sleep? It couldn’t be – hypnophones were fool-proof, one hundred percent. Still, he would have to check it out.

If she proved to be a potential witness, he’d have to take care of her. It would be a shame, though; she was pretty, pure somehow. Eliminating innocent people repulsed him, but then, their mission to decimate the world’s criminal population wouldn’t succeed without some collateral damage.

Should he do it now?

His heart pounding, he gazed out the window. Landing was imminent, it was too risky. He exhaled, relieved, and slid back into his seat.

He was one of the first to move forward once the plane had landed, wanting to take a good look at her, to judge her intentions. Stopping just before the plane exit, he pretended to be searching for something in his pockets. He planned to return to her seat and test her hypnophones. When they were inside the terminal, he would trace her.

As the young woman ambled towards him with her eyes to the ground, his internal register, a continuously updated file incorporated into his brain, searched the local census information. She was slim and petite, her skin a soft brown; she had little makeup on, just some brown mascara, a slim line of pale blue eyeliner, and no lipstick. The register found a match; the woman’s name was Ellie Kent, twenty-three years of age, single, from Adelaide.

The coy smile from earlier still played on her lips. He liked the way she carried herself: although fragile; she walked with a straight back and self-assured pride. She looked up as she neared the exit and gasped when she saw him, as if in recognition.

The pupils of her guileless silver-blue eyes became gigantic black holes absorbing him. She couldn’t know him from somewhere; he’d never met her. Forcing a smile at her, taking in her slight frame, the shine of her hair, his eyes travelled down her neck to the front of her T-shirt.

‘I’m sorry, sir … it—you—’ Shaking her head and blushing a deep rosé, she turned towards the exit and looked down, embarrassed. Her prior self-assurance melted into nothingness.

‘No worries,’ was all he could say, concentrating on matching the Australian accent and slang, controlling his breathing, aware he’d concentrated on her breasts for a nanosecond too long. He shook his head, ridding himself of the intrusive thoughts and waited for everybody to move out. ‘Excuse me sir, what are you doing?’ The stern voice of a flight attendant disturbed him when he made his way back down the aisle

He stiffened and faced her, hoping to appear calm and apologetic.

‘I’m sorry. I believe I’ve left my glasses in the seat pocket.’

‘You’re supposed to check before you leave, sir.’

‘I thought I had.’ He shrugged apologetically. ‘I just need a quick look.’

‘Of you go then.’ She rolled her eyes, annoyed.

He continued back to Ellie’s seat glad he didn’t have to use the last drop of his mind-stunner to get his way.

A colleague demanded the flight attendant’s attention. Relieved, Tris grabbed the young woman’s hypnophones. He tensed and a pained sigh escaped as he cursed under his breath. Stupid girl! Her hypnophones were switched off; for all he knew she was a witness.

With knowing hands, he changed the setting to one he presumed suited her, wiped them down, and moved out of the plane without a backward glance. He wouldn’t leave any trace for the police to claw into; not even that of a random woman whose hypnophones weren’t working.

As he entered the terminal, striding along the corridors, he heard the nervous shouts of the cabin crew. They had discovered the victim, but they wouldn’t fully understand what had happened to him until the autopsy. Tris needed to decide, and quickly. It made sense to eliminate her at once.

He shuddered as he imagined himself pulling her behind a dark corner, hand over her mouth, putting the cloth over her head. Using blunt force or strangulation didn’t cross his mind; their family didn’t apply those barbarian Earthly methods. Besides, he’d hate having to witness the waves of hopelessness, anxiety, and anger running through her body before she took her last breath.

There she was, holding her backpack at the baggage claim. Was it possible he was overreacting? She seemed so calm and collected, not like somebody in shock from witnessing a murder. Was she putting on a brave face? Maybe she was just unobservant.

People here still puzzled him. Should he give her the benefit of the doubt? Probably not! After all, she had squirmed under his gaze. She must have seen something and her hypnophones had been switched off, it was the only plausible explanation.

Why was he even considering her fate? One more or less simple human, what difference would it make in the big scheme of things? On the other hand, if he hastily disposed of her now, he could be discovered and put his team at risk. No, he would follow her and tonight discuss this unwanted complication at sharing. It wouldn’t disrupt his time schedule.

He followed Ellie Kent out the terminal, waiting only metres behind her, willing his brother to arrive. Where was his brother? Today of all days! It was typical for Seb to be late. He scanned the street but the enormous guy in front of him was blocking most of his view. He couldn’t fathom how tall some males grew here. What a waste of genetic life force!

His brother’s two-finger-wave finally caught his eye, and he glimpsed the woman getting into a taxi as he moved to cross the road. Wearing bulkily framed glasses, she turned her head to close the cab’s door.

Sebastan had rolled the old, dark-blue Mercedes smoothly onto the curb across the road., his elbow leaning leisurely on the open window frame, his eyes grinning over his Ray-Bans.

Tristan would have stopped to admire his own handy work if he wasn’t in such a hurry; he’d painstakingly re-built the awesome antique vehicle before going on this trip.

Tristan leapt towards the car. He flung the door open and jumped into the passenger seat.

‘Follow that taxi.’ He pointed to the vehicle leaving in the opposite direction.

Seb managed a perfect U-turn, instantly in pursuer-mode, tracking a few cars behind the taxi.

‘You’re late.’ Tris said.

‘Good day to you, too. And sorry, yes, this piece of scrap metal wouldn’t start.’

‘That can’t be. I serviced it before I left!’ Seb had to be lying.

Tris loved rusty old earthly things, he was top in engineering and mechanical problem solving and had a knack with his fingers. Taking a motor to pieces, assessing, repairing, and reassembling the bits was his passion.

Seb winked with a lascivious glint.

Tris groaned; more likely Seb didn’t want to get out of bed; he would not fall for that trap. He had no desire to listen to his brother’s couch-stories, knowing he’d be only too keen to share, and afterwards reiterate that as a twenty-two-year-old Tris was expected to be more finished. Instead, in a few sentences, he described what had happened on the plane before landing and afterward.

‘We should get rid of her.’ Seb agreed.

They followed the taxi into Alice in silence, the Stuart Highway unusually quiet. There was hardly any wind, the late light painting the clouds, the gum trees, and buildings in pink hues, giving the place a spectral feel.

Tris checked the streets on the GPS to get his bearings, looking up just as the traffic light turned amber. Right indicator blinking, the taxi slipped through just in time. Seb had not taken his foot off the accelerator, hoping to follow suit, and nearly missed the sudden flash of the brake lights of the car in front of them. Seb slammed the brakes, and they were jerked forwards and back into their seats, barely avoiding a collision. Their car was at a stand-still only five centimetres from the one in front.

‘That was close.’ Seb spat through his teeth.

Time seemed to drip like a leaking tap while they waited for the lights to turn green. As they did, the driver in the front car showed no signs of taking notice, their head was bobbing to and fro. Irritated, Tristan reached over and blew the horn. The startled driver shifted into gear and turned the corner.

‘Fuck!’

The unexpected epithet had slipped out of Tris’s mouth before he could stop himself.

The taxi was parked at the police station.

‘Strikes me your little friend has put two and two together. Bet she was top of her acting class. What now?’ Seb asked.

Tris sighed. She’d gone to denounce him after all. He’d been so successful in convincing himself she hadn’t noticed a thing. Was it better to make a run for it, hoping she hadn’t seen him leave with his brother? Perhaps wait for her to come out. They’d surely missed their opportunity, but he had to be certain. What would he say to her? Possible scenarios were whirling in his brain. Unfortunately, he wasn’t known to be a skilled problem solver in the communication department, unlike Seb.

‘I’ll go inside and confirm if she saw.’ He grabbed the door handle, ready to jump out at any minute.

‘No, you stay here. It’ll be less suspicious for me to go.’ Seb moved to get out of the car. ‘Use your senses and search for clues where she might be headed.’

‘This is ridiculous,’ Tris said. ‘You don’t even know what she looks like.’

’It won’t matter. How many people will be in the station right now?’

Irritated, Tris nodded. He remained staring outside when Seb left the car. This was undeniably the better solution. Why was he feeling so bereft? Confused by the incurable urge to see the woman again, knowing it was dangerous, stupid even, a temptation he didn’t need; he realised the powerful pull towards her was similar to the one he’d felt towards Qristana, his girl he’d left at home.

CHAPTER 3

Police station

---

The drive to the police station was quick and silent.

My mind kept wandering back to the dream on the plane, and the beautiful stranger who had a real-life look-alike. Bree was going to have a field day with this.

My stomach growled angrily. The taxi driver looked startled through the rear-view mirror. Finding a place to have dinner was next on my list. I would invite my friend Liam, we all called Skinner, to a meal.

Pushing my horse-blinker glasses back into place, I got out of the car, grasped my backpack, and walked towards the station.

I’d lost touch with Skinner after high school when he’d gone away to study. Bree’s social media tactics helped to re-connect us. A qualified Police Constable now, he had been a best mate throughout our teenage years, sharing my passion for target shooting and Bree’s for dancing. I was looking forward to spending time on the Rifle Range again.

I walked through the heavy automatic glass door into the well-lit reception area. The space behind the unattended, glassed-in reception desk opened to a wide, anonymous looking office. A locked padded security door was left to the desk.

---

In the back of the room, two desks faced each other with a dividing wall between them and a third one stood on the right wall. Two with computers and phones, and the third with five used mugs and a pile of paperwork spilling over the keyboard. The walls were plastered with maps and old newspaper clippings of wildlife and nature’s best, kids’ drawings, and shabby lists with telephone numbers. On one billboard hung a huge warning poster listing features of carbon monoxide poisoning.

I cleared my throat. ‘Hello? Is somebody here?’

My voice sounded hoarse. I stepped towards the front of the desk, took the backpack from my shoulders, and rested it carefully against the sturdy wooden panel of the reception desk. I’d hate to set off an alarm. I stowed my glasses in my jacket pocket and contemplated what to do next.

Footsteps from behind the locked security door alerted me. My eyes fixed on the lock, I strained my ears in the noise’s direction; it wasn’t this door that opened, but the one behind me. A person passed through the heavy glass door, panting loudly.

I whirled around unthinking and froze with a gasp. Heat rose to my face. What the --? Blinking, I stared at the man in front of me, unbelieving. Impossible!

Impossible it might be, but there was no denying it. This time it was the full-blown version of my dream, his familiarity was unnerving. What the hell?

Panting, his eyes raked over me, looking surprised, desperate, and relieved all at once; but, most of all, sexy as hell.

Oh. My. Lord.

He moved closer; his green eyes focused on me. A puzzled expression crossed his face and he studied me for a second longer.

‘Did you ring the bell?’ He asked.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted the little service bell sitting on the desk. ‘Uh no, not yet.’

‘Good. I mean … I will then.’ Before he did, he turned around. ‘You arrived in a plane just now, didn’t you?’

I nodded. Why was I answering him?

His eyes moved from me to the bell and back, deliberating. They were so full of urgency; an icy shiver ran down my spine. He looked torn, as if trying to decide on how to solve an unspeakable dilemma. Exhaling slowly, his breath was on my face and my nose received a pleasant surprise. He too smelled of a freshly cut lawn. How funny! Before I could analyse this olfactory conundrum, his eyes grew fiercer. With conviction, he stepped closer still.

‘What’s the matter?’ I asked.

He stared at me, his eyebrows pulling together in bewilderment. Before he could answer, the security door opened with a forceful swing, startling both of us.

A remarkably tall man in uniform, in his mid-thirties, stood in the open doorway, his gaze on his phone. When he lifted his head, surprise crossed his face.

‘Oh – hello. Didn’t hear you come in. Did you ring for attention?’ Holding the door open with one hand, he said, ‘I’m Sergeant Hancock Betteridge. How can I help you?’ His gaze travelled from me to the man behind me and back, questioning.

‘We’re not together,’ I said.

Hancock acknowledged my response with a chin lift. Evaluating my attire, eyes settling on my backpack, he asked, ‘Are you Ellie?’

I nodded, relieved.

‘Liam told me.’ He stretched out his hand, smiling. ‘Welcome Ellie. Call me Hank.’

Tilting my head back to maximum, I took in the hulk of a man offering me his hand. Everybody was taller than me; my four-months-younger sister and even Gran, but Hank was a giant, a friendly giant. I took his warm hand, returning his firm grip with even strength

Hank’s gaze travelled to Mr Piercing.

Looking over my shoulder, I couldn’t believe the change in the stranger’s demeanour. His eyes, currently the colour of soft friendly moss, had lost all traces of desperation. A faint smile sat on his lips.

‘Sorry to disturb you, officer. Where is the nearest garage?’ He said.

‘Having car trouble?’

‘Hm.’

Hank gave instructions. I stared at the stranger and deliberated why he lied about the car being in trouble. Getting dizzy from not wearing my glasses and confused about his true motives, I interrupted with a croaky voice,

‘Can I use the bathroom, please?’

Hank pointed behind him without breaking eye contact with the man. ‘Second on the right.’

I tried to contain my breath, grabbing my backpack, and squeezing past Hank’s muscly arm, which was still holding the door open. The door clicked shut behind me as Hank stepped into the foyer.

Exhaling with force, my back to the wall I let myself, backpack still attached, slide to the ground. My stomach in a knot and my legs shaky, a shiver ran through me. What was the matter with me? My body was behaving like an infatuated teenage girl about to faint because she managed to grab an autograph of her favourite boyband. Ridiculous. Get your act together, Kent! Bracing myself, I pushed up and walked into the bathroom.

---

I waited for Hank in the corridor, the neon light flickering nervously. I closed my eyes, resting the back of my head against the wall; this place creeped me out. Straining to listen, I couldn’t hear their voices anymore.

The lock clicked, breaking the eerie silence around me, and the door opened with a creak. Hank passed me, motioning for me to follow.

We walked silently along the corridor and headed through a door on the left into another neon-lit room. It was a small kitchen with a table surrounded by six chairs. I carefully settled my backpack on one.

Switching the old-fashioned kettle on, Hank turned to look at me. ‘You alright? You look a bit pale.’

‘It’s boiling here.’

‘Sure is. I put the aircon on. Do you wanna have water or a cuppa?’

‘Tea, please.’

He fetched a biscuit tin out of the cupboard, lifting the lid and offering it to me. I smiled as I recognised them: TimTams, Skinner’s and my favourite. I took one, bit into it, the familiar sweet crunch soothing at once.

The attendance bell rang as I was sipping my tea in silence, TimTam in hand. Hank left me to my thoughts, duty calling.

Skinner texted shortly after that he was held up, so I suggested we meet at a cafe. I finished my tea, had another biscuit, and headed off.

I was on my way to Sportie’s Café on Todd’s Mall, glasses on my nose. The late, hot afternoon sun bore on my head and neck, sweat beads pearled down my back. The backpack straps dug into my shoulders; I couldn’t wait to take it off. Glad to see the Café sign not a hundred metres away, I picked up the pace.

Just before I reached the café, I stumbled on a large stone, my tunnel-vision glasses proven yet again a safety hazard in the city. Cursing silently, I prepared for an ungraceful landing as my weighty backpack propelled me forward with the force of a straining bulldog and. My backpack flew over my head, driving me towards the pavement, but before it reached the ground, something pulled my pack back and a millisecond later a hand clamped onto my right arm.

‘Whoa, careful!’ A familiar baritone warned.

My knees hit the ground with vigour, yet the force holding me prevented the fall from being too impactful. Strong muscular arms swung me around as my whole body pivoted into the reassuring comfort of my saviour’s chest.

We both looked at each other. Although my vision was impaired, I discerned his full lips and got the strange urge to kiss him. He let go of me, seemingly hesitant, and I straightened. I rubbed my arm and felt colour flood my cheeks.

‘Thanks,’ I said, ‘that could have been disast—’

The rest of the word got stuck in my throat, my face’s heat intensifying as I recognised him. The green-eyed god – who smelled of freshly cut grass and possessed the white-blond curls of Apollo – studied me.

Without waiting for my instruction, he removed my backpack and stiffened.

‘What is in this thing? Bricks?’

‘I’ll take it.’ I stretched my hand out, removing my glasses with the other.

‘I’ve got it now. But do tell me.’

‘It’s a mobile lab, or what’s left of it.’ I hoped my words were hyperbole. I’d packed my precious equipment with care and had wrapped it multiple times, knowing my lack of grace.

‘Interesting!’

He carried my pack a few meters to the café and rested it beside a free table.

‘I’m Sebastan – Seb. Nice to meet you.’ He stretched his hand out and I took it in mine, relishing his warmth and strength.

‘I’m Ellie.’

He beamed. ‘Can I buy you a drink, Ellie?’

I studied him. His genuine smile, his amusement, and the cheeky sparkle in his eyes dared me to accept.

‘Why not? Since my clumsiness doesn’t seem to have put you off.’

He chuckled, tilting his head back. An all-tooth smile spreading across his face, he said, ‘It normally would, but you just pulled it off with perfection. You are intriguing.’

How bizarre! There was something about him that had hooked me, as well.

‘Meet my little brother, Tristan,’ he said as the teal-eyed man I’d met in the plane stepped towards our table – now it made sense.

‘I think we should go,’ Tristan said.

‘Why the hurry, brother? It’s only for a drink. Join us.’

Although he seemed opposed to his brother’s suggestion, Tristan sat down next to Sebastan.

So here I was, sitting opposite Tristan and Sebastan, awaiting my falafel wrap and feeling confused. My physical being seemed to have double-trouble, deciding whom it was more attracted to. Lost for words, I gazed from one chiselled chin to the other David-like creation. They were so alike in their sumptuousness, yet their energies couldn’t be more different.

Tristan ignored me and avoided eye contact. Why did he join us if he disagreed?

Sebastan noticed my stare when he returned with our drinks. ‘Don’t worry about my brother, he’s the shy one in the family.’

Tristan’s eyes flashed with annoyance. It was exactly those eyes which drew my attention. Although they sparkled like Sebastan’s, their colour seemed to shift from turbulent, liquid peacock towards a deep, troubled teal, before they settled into soft pale turquoise – reminding me of different ocean depths whenever he allowed me a glimpse.

‘So, what is a city girl doing in this part of the country?’ Sebastan asked. And I was again drawn by the warmth of his baritone.

‘I’m employed by the University of Adelaide’s biology department; I’ve come to study the bee population in the national park.’

‘Interesting.’

The way he pulled his eyebrows together told me it wasn’t, but I wanted him to understand. ‘I enjoy working outdoors, with animals and in the fresh air.’

‘So, you move to the dustiest place on Earth?’ To emphasise his point, he wiped his fingers over the table and looked at the red rim he’d accumulated.

‘I don’t mind getting dirty.’

Sebastan grinned and Tristan squirmed in his chair, looking furious.

‘Why bees?’

‘I’m interested in bees’ attraction to scents and colours, and the reason some become aggressive.’

‘So that’s why you brought your mobile lab?’ He winked, but I sensed a barely disguised hint of sarcasm and dissent.

A pinch of annoyance hit me, but I brushed it aside. Maybe Sebastan belonged to that group of people who were convinced I was wasting precious tax-payer money on one of those indulgent projects, city people had thought up. I wasn’t sure I would waste my energy trying to persuade him that keeping track of the health of bees was a valuable exercise. I felt sorry for his ignorance.

‘Yep, that’s the main reason.’ I should have worn my other T-shirt: ‘Protect our bees – they’re vital for wine’. He would have understood that one. Maybe I’d have to accept the challenge and show him I knew my stuff.

Time for diversion.

‘So, what are you two doing here?’

‘Avoiding bees!’ Seb grinned and then said, ‘No. We deliver small goods.’

‘Was that why you asked for a garage at the station? As your car wasn’t the problem.’

Seb stilled and studied me.

Tristan inhaled deeply. He was rubbing his long index finger on the edge of the coaster in front of him.

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I shouldn’t pry into your affairs. Where are you headed next?’

‘North of Alice,’ Sebastan said, a small smile indulging me.

‘Do you often fly?’ Tristan asked abruptly, as if he was trying to prove something. He withdrew his hand, briefly ogled me, blushed, and looked away. My gaze journeyed from the spot where his hand played with the coaster to his face.

‘No, most definitely not!’

He seemed surprised by the vehemence in my voice.

‘Not your favourite pastime then?’ Sebastan teased.

‘I'd sooner change bedsheets.’

Tristan’s mouth twitched up before his turquoise eyes tightened slightly. They bored into me, as if hoping to lift the thoughts straight out of my mind. ‘So, you didn’t enjoy this flight?’

‘Well,’ I stammered, ‘yes and no.’ I shook my head as I tried to calm myself.

‘How so? Surely hypnophones ensure your dreams are pleasant.’ Sebastan offered as his finger brushed his handsome chin.

What I wished to tell him was that, unfortunately, I wasn’t like everybody else. What I couldn’t – wouldn’t – tell him was this flight had been an exception to the rule. This time, for an unknown but welcome reason, I’d fallen asleep and had had the most enjoyable sexual fantasy.

Waiting for me to elaborate, impatience flickering, Tristan’s gaze was upon me.

‘Why do you ask? Do I have dark rings under my eyes?’

Tristan blushed, but Sebastan laughed. He said, ‘You certainly haven’t, but do tell us.’

‘Yes, because I had a pleasant dream and … uh … no because I hate altitude changes. I guess a career as a flight attendant is out.’

Tristan crossed his arms; Sebastan looked pensive but kept leaning forward as if he wanted to be closer to me, which I didn’t mind.

‘You feel them despite the hypnophones? That’s unfortunate!’

I shrugged.

I debated whether to come clean and explain that I hated flying and why. I loathed to lie to them. Tristan’s frosty stare stopped me in my tracks, causing a lump to form in my throat, paralysing my tongue. My vocal cords stunned into silence again, I decided against telling the truth.

‘Enough about me! Did you hear the ambulance when we left the plane? What do you think happened?’

Tristan shot his brother a concerned look, but Sebastan didn’t seem to notice or care.

CHAPTER 4

Skinner

---

Before they could answer, large, warm hands covered my eyes. I padded along them and a whiff of an unmistakable DavidB breezed into my nostrils. I only knew one person who wore that.

‘Hi Skinner!’ My mouth nearly split in half from the enormous grin spreading across my face. I got up to greet him. ‘It’s so good to see you.’

‘Hi, Midget.’ He beamed, his blue eyes wide with excitement. ‘I wanted to surprise you, pick you up, but – never mind.’

He looked great in his uniform. Healthy, suntanned, his black hair messy as usual. He’d beefed up around his shoulders and arms and had grown at least another three inches. He embraced me in a big bear-hug and started twirling me around.

‘You haven’t grown an inch since the last time I saw you.’ He laughed into my ear.

‘Why would I need to’—I clapped my hand onto his belt holster— ‘when I have you as knight in shining armour?’ I rolled my eyes at him. ‘You and Bree are more than enough to make up for my dwarfyness.’

‘Guess you’re right.’ He laughed and put me down gently, his hands remaining on my shoulders; he studied me with such intense joy that it nearly choked me.

‘Look at you. I leave you alone for half an hour and you’ve already attracted attention. You’re becoming like your sister, El.’ He nodded towards my companions, lingering longer on Sebastan’s face, and said, ‘Hi, I’m Liam. Skinner to some!’ He grinned in my direction.

Tristan got up. ‘I think we should go now.’

‘Don’t leave on my account,’ Skinner said. ‘We can catch up all night,’ he added and peered at me as if asking for my permission.

I shrugged as we all sat back down, Skinner next to me. What was he suggesting?

‘Don’t you wear