Falling For Trance Read online

  FALLING FOR

  TRANCE

  A XENO SAPIENS NOVEL

  Rena Marks

  FALLING FOR TRANCE

  A Xeno Sapiens Novel

  Rena Marks

  “If I can’t have you, no one will.”

  Trance: It was love at first sight for him. It didn’t matter that she didn’t feel the same way. Hell, she didn’t even notice him though they were enclosed in a vehicle together for fifteen full glorious minutes. All she could do was stress over being late to get off work.

  Leah: She noticed the hot Xeno Sapien, all right. But what could she do? “Hi, I’m Leah. I’d love to get to know you, but I’m covered in bruises from neck to toe. And when I get home tonight? He’ll notice exactly how interested I was in you. It might be one word. It might be the way your eyes follow me as I walk out to my car. But in any case, he’s gonna know.”

  This time, it takes Leah two weeks of hospitalization to get back on her feet. And once she does? She has a plan.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Xeno Sapiens

  Alien Stolen

  Abducted

  Space Babies

  Artificial Intelligence

  Stargazer Series

  The Hunter

  Also by Rena Marks

  Chapter One

  Six months earlier:

  “TIME: SIX-OH-TWO p.m.” The computer voice sounded monotonous as Leah affixed her fingerprint to the data log.

  Perfectly on time. Relief should have rolled through her, but honestly—it could go either way, depending on Brock’s mood. He wouldn’t normally get too upset—knowing there could be a ten minute gap to check out at the gates—but this time he had the headlights turned on, shining on the wrought-iron gates that separated Xenia from Earth-Ground, and he watched her descend from the smaller vehicle instead of the public shuttle.

  Sweet Goddess. The vehicle. Please, dear Lord, let him not focus on that.

  “Leah?” A voice called out.

  She looked back over her shoulder.

  “It was nice to meet you. I’ll sign up for your lessons.”

  The guard who her clients had given a lift to the gates, thereby enabling her to tag along and beating the shuttle by mere minutes, had been in the back seat with her. She gave a brief wave to the man, realizing for the first time—though they’d been butted up against each other in the back seat of the car—that he was quite handsome. His skin was unusual because it looked lighter than one might expect in the darkness of the car. Almost as if it shimmered with an inner glow. A soft sheen. She should have looked closer, but who would guess that she’d find him fascinating? After all there was an array of Xeno Sapiens, their differences apparent. When she did look at him, however, he blushed. It wasn’t a normal blush. His blush was purple at the cheekbones.

  “Uh, thanks”—what was his name?—“I appreciate the business. Nice to meet you as well.”

  “Trance.”

  Oh, crap, he knew she didn’t know his name.

  “Trance.” She offered him a smile but the blare of the hovercar’s horn sobered her.

  She turned quickly and left the safety of the rest of the world behind her. She hurried to the craft, stepping in to find Brock standing, his hand on the safety support pole, staring at her through the one-way window.

  His stillness was the first clue.

  “What took you so long?” He sounded sullen and peevish; the beginning of his cycle of what was to come. At this point, all she could do was deal with it and hope she could alleviate the severity.

  “It’s only 6:02, baby. I’m off at six.”

  His voice was soft and somehow all the more dangerous. “Why weren’t you on the shuttle with everyone else?”

  She couldn’t help but gulp. “A new client. The lesson ran a little bit late and they were bringing the guard to the gate so they just brought me along, too. We happened to beat the shuttle, so I actually saved time.” She was aware she was babbling, but it was his voice that had clued her in. That soft one always signified the calm before the storm. The explosion was coming, no matter what she said or did.

  “I watched you, Leah. You got out of the car and visited with them outside, knowing I was waiting. It’s so disrespectful to make your husband wait.”

  “They had to switch shifts, Brock. No one was allowed through the gates until the new guard took over.”

  “It appears you were very comfortable with the ones in the car.”

  “Of course not. I just met them fifteen minutes ago. Two of the Xenos in their household—the guy’s brothers—took the lesson. That guy and his wife brought me and waited with me until the shift change. That’s all.”

  “You know how dangerous it is when other people get involved in our household. You get friendly—one word is misconstrued and we have to start over.”

  “That’s not the case here. I barely talked to them. And I’m up for a raise in a month. There are no guarantees, of course. But I’m picking up new clients and that should be a sign I’m doing a good job.”

  Changing the subject to a raise was a strategic move. Money would pacify him.

  “You need to keep your head on straight,” Brock snapped. “You’re barely making any money as it is.”

  Leah blinked. Barely any money? The Xeno Sapiens paid well. Everyone knew that. She didn’t know how much exactly because Brock collected her paychecks. And it wasn’t easy to get a job in the city. There were tons of background checks to pass, tests to take…as a matter of fact, Brock himself couldn’t pass them. Not with his gambling habit.

  “I just got paid,” Leah whispered.

  “It’s already gone!” Brock’s temper snapped. He raised one arm and struck out, hitting her square in the chest.

  That was where he usually hit her—somewhere where her clothing would cover up the evidence of his moods.

  “Brock,” she screamed, dropping into her protective stance, cowering below his boot as he kicked repeatedly. Pain radiated from her midsection in an explosive burn and adrenaline rushed to cover the pain from her cracked lower rib. She was a failure. She couldn’t keep him pacified long enough to get home. He’d lost his temper in the damn hovercar, which meant that the beating would be swift—but severe. It meant his frustration level was amped.

  He’d been waiting for this. Stewing the entire time he waited for her. Possibly even picked her up early so he would have more time to grow irritated.

  “How the hell am I supposed to pay the bills when you’re so busy flirting with everyone they dock your fucking pay?” he screamed, lifting her by the fabric at her chest and throwing her across the car.

  “Weight distribution uneven.” The car’s computerized voice announced.

  No shit, Sherlock.

  “Please stand at the weight distribution poles.”

  But then the car’s voice faded into the background with its warnings as the attack became more brutal. She was aware of screaming—and after a while, not even aware it was hers.

  She woke feeling woozy. The last thing she remembered was Brock lifting her by her hair and whispering, “If I can’t have you, no one will.” Then someone screamed, which meant a neighbor had seen them pu
ll up. She sighed. They’d have to move again and that took so much energy.

  She groaned. Everything on her body hurt—including her jaw. That was new. He’d hit her above the neck this time. Accident? Or were his moods escalating purposely?

  This time, she had a two-week hospital stay. She’d been forced to call in sick to her new job.

  Used to be, doctors would bring charges if a woman showed up in her condition. Of course, on Delta Four it was rare for a woman to look like a walking car accident. But this was Earth-Ground and here, the overworked doctors didn’t even blink. They patched her up, healed her broken bones, but left her with the bruising. It was for a purpose. Bruises were a reminder to take it easy—and injuries could easily redone if one thought they were completely healed. Plus, it took extra credits to heal bruises and it was much cheaper to cover them up.

  Leah would never be completely healed so she certainly didn’t mind them.

  Besides, two weeks gave her a reprieve. But her time was up.

  The door to her hospital room opened and Brock poked his head in, an armful of flowers and a string of balloons tucked in his hand for release day. Of course.

  Her room was already filled with flowers, the nurses oohing and ahhing over such a thoughtful man who’d brought her so many after her tragic “accident.”

  Would they be as enthralled if they knew how many bruises he’d brought her?

  This time, however, she had a plan. It may not be feasible but she had to try.

  She was getting more Xeno Sapien clients lately. Word was spreading about her lessons—it helped that her recipes were also delicious and they ate the food she planned out for the mess hall. That being said…she was due for a raise. She’d been working at Xenia for two months now and it was expected that in another month, she’d get a raise. Supposing she went into her superiors and requested that the additional credits be held instead of added to her paycard? It would quickly add up—especially any tips added to the pot. She’d just have to be nice to the Xeno Sapiens—super nice. Bright smile, bigger tips.

  And one day, she’d have enough to be free. One day, she could petition to join the homeless ranks outside the city. She was well aware they’d closed the borders to limit the growth. But by then she should be a well-trusted employee of the city and perhaps an exception would be made in her case. She could explain she was homeless and obviously a supporter of Xeno Sapiens…

  She sighed. It was all a fantasy, really. There were rules in place for a reason. Her employers weren’t going to let her move in to a closed border community.

  But for the first time, she had the smallest glimmer of hope in her chest. The very least she could do was set aside her tips and upcoming raise. In case there was a possibility she could leave.

  And then the answer dawned on her. She’d tell him that her hospitalization extended her sick days. A lot of her clients had been given to other chefs hired at the same time she was. That would give her an excuse to send the tips and more than half the pay into a separate account—if Xenia would hold them, of course. Perhaps two-thirds of her pay? She’d tell him the only position available was physical labor in food preparation until she could build more clients, so maybe a groundskeeper or office cleaner to account for the time she was away. Brock would be scared enough at the lack of pay to leave her alone for a couple of months so she could at least build new clientele. No matter how much she saved during that time, it could be as little as five hundred credits, she’d disappear. She’d beg Xenia to allow her to stay with the homeless tents. She’d don a disguise. She’d do anything.

  But this was her chance. She could feel it.

  Chapter Two

  Two days later:

  LEAH SAT IN the head office with Dr. Robyn Saraven and Dr. Amanda Becker. Both of the women were the united force that had discovered the newly-created Xeno Sapiens, broken them out of their underground holding laboratories, and bought the plot of land to create Xenia, the city in which to house them.

  “You’re sure you’re feeling up to returning to work?” Robyn asked.

  “Just a nasty bout of flu.” Leah smiled through the lie, though it definitely explained her pallor. Rapid healing tended to make the skin look sickly and the hospital stay would have expended a growth hormone to help her bones knit. Her bruising was in the green stage, nearly gone. Of course, clothing covered those.

  One of the doctors hadn’t said anything, but the bruise on her jaw had been healed without asking. Free of charge.

  “We can definitely start you back. I’ve had a couple others on your waitlist—”

  “I wanted to talk to you about that,” Leah said, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. Everything had to be played just so. “I know this is highly unusual. But I’d like to know if all new clientele’s payments…and tips…from this day forward might be held in reserve for me to collect at a later date? Sort of like a savings account? Maybe I can even get a few others of my established clients into the account if so.”

  Both women stared at her. She had nothing to lose, so she plunged on.

  “I’m not the greatest at managing money and it’s best if I don’t see it, you know?” She forced herself to laugh, a false ring in it she couldn’t quite mask so she hurried on. “And also…I know the homeless camps are closed off to new arrivals, but what if it’s an employee to the city? Would I be considered a new arrival? I’d really like to show my support and I think I can help out in those camps.”

  “I think you’ve done much with helping out,” Amanda said. “You’ve made the difference in our mess hall being a cross between a lunchroom facility and a five-star restaurant. It’s not necessary to volunteer at the camps, too.”

  Oh, no, Leah. Fix this quick. Throwing the camps into the wheel was probably way too soon. It sounded desperate.

  “Nothing long term and nothing immediate. As long as it’s an idea. A possibility to keep on the back burner for later. I’m eager to help out in any areas I can.”

  Amanda shrugged. “We can think about that.”

  “As far as the money situation, we can withhold your pay, but that means your statements will have extra accounting so we can track how much we’re setting aside and log it accordingly,” Robyn said.

  Her heart pounded against the inside cage of her ribs to the point she thought they could see the movement. She couldn’t have statements sent to the house. Notification of mail was one thing Brock checked regularly and she wasn’t privy to the passcodes. He was her manager, after all. “I trust you. I don’t want any unnecessary work on my account.”

  “It’s computer generated, so it should be fine,” Robyn said. “Paper or email? We still offer both options because a lot of people tend to overlook numbers on a screen but track better on paper.”

  “Perhaps…I can pick up my statements in person instead of having them forwarded or emailed? I can keep them in one place if I’m retrieving them.”

  “If you wish. They’ll be in the employee information area at the end of each week.”

  One problem solved. Leah felt her smile take over her lips and for the first time in a long time, it felt genuine. It wasn’t a full-blown smile, of course. The muscles were too unused for that. But this lifted the left side of her mouth.

  “Welcome back, Leah. As always, you’ll get off at six. The shuttle will leave the central location at 5:40 to return everyone to the front gate. The schedule of your clients will be on the employee board and an image of each individual home with a map. Most Xeno Sapiens are willing to walk a human anywhere if you just ask.”

  “Thank you. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Today you’re starting with the family that you ended with last time. Impatience and Envy? They signed up for another lesson and beg for something other than spaghetti.” Her tone was dry.

  Leah laughed. “They were pretty focused on learning. I think we can manage something new.”

  “And you have a new person who had signed up that night. Trance. He’s be
en working at the front gate. He’ll be the last person on your schedule this week. Since he’s new…but technically signed up a couple weeks ago—did you want him on the withholding pay schedule? Including any tips?”

  “Yes.” Her voice sounded a little sharp. She cleared her throat, trying to sound more at ease. “Please. That would be great. Thank you.”

  “All right. I know you’d only gone to the home of Envy and Impatience once before and it was two whole weeks ago. Do you remember how to get there? If not, I can get someone to walk you.”

  “No, I’m fine,” Leah said. “I still remember.”

  She remembered every detail of that night, actually. Vividly. That was the last night she’d felt the safety of Xenia. There was something comforting about the giant walls. The old-fashioned wrought-iron gates. It was old world blended with new technology. Stone walls and electrical force fields.

  As she made her way out of the main building, a tiny Xeno Sapien with fluffy green hair came up to her. “Glad you’re back, Leah.”

  “Lily! Thank you. How’ve you been?”

  “I’ve been good. Many have declared my egg salad perfect. I’m more than ready for you to be back so we can delve into other creations.”

  “Me, too,” Leah said, waving as Lily continued on her way. Lily had been one of her first clients. Her husband had actually signed her up. He’d presented her to Lily with love in his eyes—and Leah melted when Lily squealed and ran into his arms like he’d given her a diamond necklace instead of cooking lessons.

  “Hi, Leah,” Troy called out, waving as he went by.

  “Troy,” she called, with a wave.

  She loved this place. She loved how friendly it was. She ducked into the kitchen to grab a box and load some ingredients, affixing her signature and stating whose account it was for. For a moment, the little fantasy played in her mind. If she lived in the camps, she wouldn’t have to worry about missing meals, which were only offered at select times and one had to be present in person to collect. She could grab a few pieces of fruit and cheese, maybe some bread and charge it to her own account. It would be deducted from her pay, easy peasy.