A Hidden Element (4 page)

Caleb strode fast to his next job. He hated his father with the darkest depths of his soul. Hated how he had him brought here against his will. Hated how he ruled with cruelty. And he hated being part of the Madroc family. If he gave into this hate he would be giving in to what his father wanted him to be.

A Destroyer.

He would fight it even if it meant his own demise. He had seen the disobedient ones lobotomized. Labeled Unfit, they went about their jobs with blank smiles on their faces and were kept in a separate wing to be bred amongst themselves. They didn't seem unhappy. Would it be such a bad way to be? Innocent and content? But then he couldn't help his people in trouble—and he wouldn't know his sons. It was why he did his father's dirty work. It saved him from losing his mind—literally.

Caleb pretended for years to be impotent. It fed into his father's belief he was weak. It sickened him he had to "breed" and lay with females chosen for him. At times it was hard to resist as his teen hormones raged wild, but he assuaged it by relieving himself and using his mind powers to remove his desire.

He had lost his will just once at nineteen. She had been such a beautiful, sweet female. Rachel was her name. She was the third one his father had selected him to bond with as his "first" female in their community. The first two he refused and as a consequence was whipped severely, but the moment he saw Rachel he had to have her.

He succumbed to pleasure. And she had pleased him across a sea of soft nights, blending her flesh with his. He had fallen in love with her from that first night, possessing her body, soul, and mind. He tried not to think about how short their time would be together. The law stated each Elyon would bond with another for their first time before being placed in the breeding assignment pool. Never again would they be with the one they bonded with for their first time. It was his father's way of discouraging special relationships.

But Caleb memorized each moment with Rachel in his heart while begging time to slow down. And poems for her poured from him. He spoke them to her as he moved within her. One word at a time. "I. Just. Wanted. To. Set. You. Free."

And her moans grew as his words spilled over her, and when she cried out with release he spilled his life into her.

"Caleb, free me again," she murmured in his ear after their heartbeats slowed, chests pressed together slick from their loving. And he did. She took his hand then and silenced him with her tongue and lips. But never again would he recite a poem to her.

He fingered the worn paper he kept in his robe's pocket. The last poem he'd written for Rachel. He'd planned to give it to her one special night, but she never came to him again. Their bond was severed. She was sent to mate with another…and then another and another.

But she was already pregnant then with his children. Twins. Now five years old. Children who would never know him as their father. Children he couldn't love or raise with Rachel as his own. The babies were handed off to the other nursing women and passed around to feed. With so many twin babies he didn't know which pair was his sons. He watched the children in the courtyard for hours determining who his children were. As time passed he discovered two boys who looked like him. Jeremiah and Josiah. Caleb often whispered their names out loud as if sending up a prayer to be with them.

Oh, yes, he prayed to the human god. He knew the Bible as well as his father. He had since found his own copy during a town mission for money and supplies. He needed to understand this god humans worshipped. The god his father believed he was. Religion provided humans with purpose and peace and a sense of belonging to something bigger than themselves. All he desired. His father used the human Bible for his own power plays. Caleb read it to know what lay at the core of humanity and people's hearts. Their found strength in faith gave him strength and hope. He needed both.

But for now he had no time for prayer. He had to report to the whipping shack. He headed there through the wooded path near the perimeter of their compound. He reached the twelve-foot high fence which bound him to this place. Guards patrolled at intervals along the fence. The shadow of one walked now in the distance. Out there held freedom. The pine trees swayed free, their own master. Unlike him. Someday he would become his own master and take his sons with him. But if he tried and failed—they would die. If his father discovered his plan—they would die.

The screams brought him back to his world.

Caleb hesitated then pulled open the door to the rough-hewn shed. Thomas, a skinny young man, stood sobbing. He faced the back wall, naked with his hands tied over his head to a rope hanging from the ceiling. Savage red marks painted his pale back and buttocks. Blood streaked across him like a child's rough painting. His legs shook and urine trickled down them. Eli, an Enforcer, relaxed his leather whip—the end tinged crimson with blood—and frowned at Caleb as he entered. Whippings had increased by his father's decree.

"Not done yet. Your father ordered twenty lashes for the second offense of trying to desert. And ten more for self-healing yourself after your last whipping, weakling! I've got ten left to administer." Eli flexed his enormous muscles and massaged his wrist. "Got a wrist sprain from all this work lately." He grinned. Caleb did not grin back. Thomas continued to cry.

"Stop your blubbering, Thomas," Eli said. "This is well deserved, you know. Putting our community at risk. Where were you going?"

"Any…where…but here." Thomas cried harder. He swayed from the rope holding him up by his pitiful arms and his knees buckled.

"Yeah, well, after this it's the stocks for you all night outside. Caleb is here to take you over."

"No, no…please. The females will see me. They don't want me. No one does. It's why I had to leave."

"They sure will see you, Son." Eli winked at Caleb. "You know the rules. The females will have something to feast their eyes on in the morning as they go about their chores. And no self-healing, little Thomas, or they'll be a bigger whipping in store for you."

"I'll finish up here, Eli," Caleb said. He pulled his lips back in what he hoped fared as a smile.

"I don't know. Adrian was specific."

"Don't worry. I'll get ten good lashes in. Go back to your bunk and ice that wrist."

"I think I will. Thanks, Caleb." Eli handed him the whip. "Thomas, watch out no woodland animals visit the stocks tonight. They may nibble on your tiny member then there won't be anything left for the few females who'd have you." He slammed out of the shed with a roar of laughter.

Caleb stood quietly, the whip limp in his hands. Thomas bent his head down further into his chest. His sobs turned to ragged whimpers. Caleb took a deep breath and flung the whip out.

S-n-a-p
.

It cracked the wall. Thomas screamed then twisted his head toward Caleb with a puzzled look.

"Nine more times, Thomas. I want you to scream with each lash, okay?"

Thomas nodded.

S-n-a-p
.

Thomas played his part. Screaming was the easy part. Caleb finished then untied Thomas, who fell on his knees.

"Caleb…thank you."

Caleb lifted him up. "Let me heal those marks." He moved his hands down over Thomas's bloody welts. The marks and blood disappeared. Caleb handed Thomas his clothes. "Get dressed and then go back to your bunk."

"But they'll think I self-healed and I'll be whipped more!"

"I'll tell them I did it."

"Why? And what will happen to you if I don't go to the stocks?" Thomas's hands shook so badly he couldn't tie his robe.

Caleb helped him. "Don't worry about me. I'll deal with my father. But you have to do something for me."

"Anything." Thomas stood up straighter.

"I know you're behind on your breeding quota."

Thomas sighed. "I'm always last to get chosen for a female. It's not my fault."

"I'll send you one tonight. A good one. Make her feel special and she'll spread the word about you. The leaders will think you're a worthy breeder. Perhaps you'll be moved up the select list and have all the females you want."

Thomas nodded and clenched his hands together. "I—I don't know how to thank you."

"Do as I ask and happiness shall be yours. And Thomas?"

"Yes?"

"If you try and escape again it will be worse for you."

"I know."

"I may not be able to help you."

Thomas nodded and grasped his hands. "Thank you."

"Go."

Thomas ran out of the shed with a wave. Caleb stood in the dark torture chamber. He may be whipped himself for letting Thomas go, but he didn't care. How simple it would be if he could be like Thomas and the one thing that made him happy would be having females galore at his disposal. He wanted one of his own choosing, but he was destined to be alone.

He could live with that, if only he could be a father to his sons.

Ben Fieldstone stomped the mud off his boots, removed them, and stepped into the foyer. He had spent all day taking wildlife photographs for a regional magazine. He stretched his arms, sore from remaining in the same position for hours. Unlike most people, animals were shy creatures of silence. Sacred yet soulless. To be in their presence required patience and hope. It's why he preferred them at times.

Even over his son.

He loved Charlie, but his son frustrated him. Ben didn't have the bond with him Laura had. The one thing that bonded them was their tempers. He might never break past his son's shell. He cringed, thinking again of how his words continued to hurt his son.
He'd be normal.
He wished he never said it.

"Laura?"

He walked into the kitchen. Cornbread steamed on the top of the stove. Ben breathed in the rich stew bubbling in the crock-pot. He flicked on the big overhead light. Early autumn darkness fell fast. There she sat, a vision in the rocker by the bay window with hands clasped over her pregnant belly as if protecting their child, her eyes closed.

Photo albums lay about open, one on her lap. Pictures he had taken of her and Charlie, when their son came into the world and then as a toddler. His son had loved him then. "Daddy! Daddy!" was all he heard when he walked in the door after a long day at a photo shoot. Ben would pick Charlie up and hold his wriggling warm body to his, as his son begged to be tickled. Now his son acted pained to be around him.

Something changed when Charlie was seven years old and from then on Charlie and Laura's circle remained unbreakable. Ben wasn't envious of Laura for it. He was glad Charlie found belonging with her, but he wished he could also find his own way to belong with his son.

And there strewn were photos of Laura. Her shining hair flowed in waves as she bent down to pick a flower on a meadow walk. She was his match. Together they were balanced. She had saved Ben from himself all those years ago. Saved him from a path of loneliness and loss and showed him how to live through love. She was stronger than him. She always had been.

They had both lost loved ones and suffered, but her heart had never closed. It had been open, ready to love again while he had closed his off in self-destruction. His heart was closed off now to a son he didn't understand. How could he open it again to him?

He stood for a while watching Laura, like the first time he saw her years ago singing away in a birch tree. She had been so beautiful then when he surprised her in the woods. She'd grown lovelier with age and maturity. He wanted to wake her, yet wanted to stare at her without her knowing. He bent down and embraced her from behind, her swollen breasts and belly caught in his arms. He squeezed softly and kissed her neck where chestnut curls hung.

She jerked and then relaxed.

"What took you so long? I've been reminiscing…now with the new baby coming." She pointed at the photos. "Wasn't Charlie adorable?"

"Just like you." He continued to kiss her neck, moving up to her ear. She moved into him and sighed.

"Remember our trip to the San Diego Zoo?" Laura said, flicking through album pages.

"Charlie wanted to release all the animals," Ben murmured into her hair.

"So they could be free to find their place in the world where they belonged." She sighed again. "Like Charlie wants to find where he belongs."

"Like Big Brave Blue?"

She nodded.

"He'll find it someday, Laura."

"He wants to feel he belongs with you, Ben. And he doesn't."

Ben stopped kissing her, but hugged her a bit tighter. He didn't know what to say about that. He needed to work on his relationship with Charlie, but it seemed as if some force kept them apart and he was helpless to break down the wall between them.

"Dinner's ready…although, I don't know where Charlie is," Laura said, finally ending their silence. She stood up, moving slow, and turned to him. "What took you so long?"

"I've been trying to get shots of the pair of bald eagles up there, among other things. They hid from me all day."

"They're huge and their nests are, too. How do they hide them?"

"I don't know. You, on the other hand, can't hide from me." He hugged her from behind.

"No kidding. Wonder when I'll ever be able to suck my stomach in again."

"Soon." Ben slid a hand into her shirt, stroking one plump breast.

"Ben Fieldstone!" She feigned indignation and an attempt to push his hand away.

"You said Charlie wasn't here." He stroked the other breast, her nipples hardening to his delight. "They're so in need."

She moaned. "I'm always in need with you around."

Ben pulled her toward the bedroom.

Laura resisted, looking out the window. "Charlie may be back home any minute. I hope he is. He got in a…well, he didn't have a good day and it's getting dark out there."

"A quick one. Charlie knows his way home. We'll lock the door and be quiet."

He led her into the bedroom and took her gently on her side, one leg flung over his. Her throbbing heat engulfed him, their child moving between them. A child he hoped would be like Charlie…and not like someone else. They didn't speak of it. Silence prevented many things. But in this act of love their child was safe for now, connected to both of them as their bodies fused together. All three of them were held close by threads too fine to see but taut with strength. He slid into her again and again, as if doing so harbored his son in a safe place.

Laura offered herself to him as she had on their first night so long ago, shy and innocent then in her love making. She had since grown into a sensuous woman, unashamed of her body and free in her sexuality. She moaned as he moved into her softness. Her warm breath pulsed on his chest. Her time of birth grew close and he held her tighter, wanting to keep her close forever. Wanting to keep her safe, their child safe.

"My perfect match," he whispered in her ear.

"Yes. Oh, yes," Laura whispered back, breathless as she neared release.

He sunk into her in a sweet rhythm, sucking on her breasts and caressing her tender spot. She clung to him in her moment, as she arched her back straining with her hips and her tight sex against him. He poured into her then and pulled her closer. Tears pressed onto his cheeks.

"What's wrong?" But he had the same fear.

"Our baby."

"I know." He held her. He had no other words. She carried his thoughts. He hid nothing from her. And over the years she had taught him how to read hers if she opened up her mind to him. At first he had been afraid to allow himself the experience but soon discovered it brought a deeper closeness to their relationship. And in making love it heightened intimacy. Their minds became joined as their bodies moved together in silence.

At those times he was not only inside her body but inside her soul. Lately she had been blocking her thoughts from him, and he felt a distance there that had not been between them before.

She moved away from him and sat up. He enjoyed her rounded curves and knelt behind her on the bed, his arms held her close. He spanned his hands on her immense abdomen. One more month. Would this child reveal himself at birth or over time?

Laura echoed his thoughts. "Our baby looks fine on the ultrasound but will he
be
fine?"

"Have hope. You were always better at it than me." Ben twirled her hair, but she pulled away and got dressed. He wished they didn't have to, but Charlie would be home. "We went through this with Charlie. We'll get through it again."

"I tried the belt again today. I had to see if they were still there."

Ben sighed and got dressed. He wished she wouldn't do that alone. "Did you get through?"

"Yes…"

"But?"

"I saw the shapes again hidden in the mist…and something else."

Ben waited. His heart knocked up a notch.

"A giant object not there before. A dark thing through the mist."

"A building?"

"Not sure. It's something they've built since the last time I got through. I thought they were all dead but maybe not. Maybe they live and will come here again." She sat back down on the bed.

Ben sat beside her. "And?"

"With our baby coming I want to believe they're still alive. Believe people from this other world are really coming. People from Elyon. From
my
place. Charlie's place. I've been waiting so long. Hoping for others and that—"

"You and Charlie wouldn't be the only ones?"

She nodded, tearing up. "I want to hope, but dashed hope can kill dreams."

Ben wiped her tear away. "Keep your hope close. You've only lost it once. Remember?"

She nodded.

"And you came back to me then, Laura. You had nothing to lose."

"Now I have everything to lose." She cried harder.

Ben took her hands, not understanding her fear. "Why, Laura?"

"Is this child ours?"

Ben dropped her hands, stunned. "What do you mean?"

Laura held her belly. "My mother had been a virgin…and she got pregnant. Then there's your vasectomy."

"The doctor said it can happen. No procedure is a hundred percent." It sounded reasonable and right to him. "Being pregnant can make you feel paranoid, Laura." He took her hands again and kissed them, willing her to believe his words.

She stared at him as she shook her head. "The headaches are back."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"If I didn't tell you then I thought they would go away."

Ben nodded. He understood this. "But you said there hasn't been anyone on Elyon to contact."

"No one there…no." Her sobs trailed into gasps.

"You think someone's here?"

She nodded.

"A Destroyer?"

She didn't respond. He gripped her hands, not wanting to believe. He bowed his head to hers, his brain screaming with other possibilities.

The old fear hit him again in his gut.