Pursued(15)

“Sounds fucking delightful,” Merrick growled, punching in landing coordinates. He was following the flight of the pilot who had taken Elise back down to Earth in the first place. And now that he was getting closer to the white and blue planet, he could feel something—a tugging sensation that had become familiar while Elise was still on the Mother Ship. She needs me, he thought. I can feel it. She’s sick and scared. He would be able to follow that tug straight to her—like a bright red arrow pointing the way.

“It gets worse.” Sylvan’s voice, breaking into his thoughts, was grim. “Those feelings of illness are soon replaced with a physical hunger—the subject feels like she’s starving, even if she’s just eaten a large meal.”

“Elise hasn’t eaten since last night,” Merrick objected. He cleared his throat. “We, uh, had a last meal together.”

“Then she’ll be even hungrier.” Sylvan sounded like he was frowning. “She’ll probably try to eat but it won’t help her. And after the physical hunger, new symptoms kick in.”

“New symptoms? It gets worse?”

“Much worse,” Sylvan assured him. “The subject will have difficulty controlling her emotions. She’ll be upset and not know why. Of course, the extreme physical symptoms contribute to her emotional distress which only makes it worse.”

“Poor kid.” Merrick felt a stab of sympathy despite himself. From what he knew of Elise, she placed great value on being in control of herself. Having her emotions go haywire was going to be hard as hell on her. The long, flat peninsula called Florida came into view and Merrick gunned his engines, giving them a final burst before initiating the landing sequence. “I’m landing now,” he told Sylvan. “Better wrap it up unless you want to bespeak me.”

“I have to get ready for when you bring her back,” Sylvan said. “There are further symptoms but I don’t have time to tell you now. And I’m afraid if she’s gone past the stages of physical hunger and erratic emotions …well…”

“Well, what?” Merrick demanded, his heart beating in his throat. He could hear the reluctance in Sylvan’s voice—the reluctance of any good medic to give bad news.

“If she’s gone past those stages she may be too far gone for you to save,” Sylvan said, sounding regretful. “I’m sorry, Merrick, but that’s the truth.”

“Goddess damn it!” Merrick swore. “There’s no time now but you’re going to explain this whole fucked up hunger thing in detail as soon as I bring her back.”

Sylvan’s response was immediate. “Absolutely,” he promised. “Just remember to touch her, Merrick. Give her plenty of skin to skin contact—that should help ease her symptoms.”

“I don’t understand that part—why?” Merrick asked as he killed the engines.

“Because,” Sylvan’s voice was fainter now, as though the connection was fading. “It isn’t food she’s hungry for, Merrick. It’s you.”

* * * * *



To her immense relief, the giant breakfast she had ordered was on the table when Elise got back from her mini break-down in the bathroom. James had pushed it all to her side while his own held only a chipped white ceramic mug filled with untouched black coffee.

“Well?” He raised an eyebrow at her, indicating the plates and platters all filled with a ridiculous array of artery clogging breakfast food at its finest. There were scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, a stack of pancakes with a pat of butter melting on top, toast with jelly, hash browns and last but not least, that timeless Southern favorite—fluffy buttermilk biscuits drowning in a lake of sausage gravy.

“Wow.” Elise’s stomach made another audible gurgle but this time she didn’t care. She sat down to the table and pulled the stack of pancakes forward. There was no time for syrup—no time to do anything but grab a fork and dig in.

Despite James’ dubious looks, the food was really good. The pancakes were light and fluffy and the eggs were scrambled to perfection. The bacon was crisp, the coffee hot and the sausage gravy was salty and creamy at the same time. All in all, Elise thought it was the best meal she’d ever eaten. She’d gone to some extremely posh and expensive restaurants with James but none of them could touch the humble IHOP spread in front of her.

But despite her pleasure in the food, she began to feel that something was still wrong…very wrong indeed. The feeling started in her pelvis or, to be more accurate, in her crotch. It began as a tingling sensation and then became a warmth that seemed to enflame her from the waist down.