Page 19 of Kai (Alpha Heroes #13)

Cece

“Wait?” I gawked in horror. “No way! I have to protect my sisters. I can find Affie. She’s a pain in the ass, but I know how she thinks. Or how she doesn’t think,” I amended quickly. “I have to return to Astor House, and fast.”

“I get it, believe me, I do.” His eyes brimmed with understanding. “But we need to be smart and careful.”

“I’m all for that,” I said. “But why can’t we go back right away?”

“Because we’ve learned from our previous clashes with NWO mercs,” he explained with commendable patience.

“They’re well-funded and have vast resources.

Every time we’ve gone for the quick exit, they’ve been waiting for us, ready to ambush us on the way out.

So, this time around, we’re turning the tables on them.

I’ve stocked Serenity with plenty of food, water, and fuel.

The plan is to wait them out and let them search the area far and wide while some of our assets watch and gather intel on them. ”

“And maybe, if things don’t go to shit, you and your team can get the info we need to find Affie,” I guessed. “You can also track the mercs to their leader, nab him, and nip this in the bud.”

“Exactly.” Kai inclined his head. “Are you on board with the plan?”

“Do I have a say?” I shot back.

“Of course you have a say,” he assured me. “If you tell me you understand our situation and the risks involved, but you still want to leave right now, we’ll go.”

“It’s a good plan.” I fidgeted in my seat. “Especially if we can keep them from going after Affie. How long will we have to wait?”

“Until the mercs finish searching,” he said. “Until they move on and I get the all clear to proceed with our exfil plan.”

I cocked my eyebrows at him. “Can you be more specific?”

“For everyone’s safety, no, I can’t.” He squared his jaw at an angle as obtuse as he was.

My stomach churned with dread. “What if they find us before then?”

“I’ve got a plan for that, too.”

When I narrowed my eyes at him, the purest tones of indigo and gold ignited his aura. He was telling the truth. Even so, I fretted. “What makes you think we’re safe here?”

“Like control, safety is also an illusion,” he offered, displaying the rare brand of factual rationality I admired.

“But for now, at this moment, we’re as safe as possible here.

This cove is a good place to wait. It doesn’t show up on any map.

It’s a deserted island, part of a chain of little-known cays and atolls, rocky outcrops and sandbanks that make this part of the ocean tricky to navigate. ”

“You mean it’s hard to access?”

“Affirmative.” He waved his hand over the table, as if he had spread an invisible map on it.

“If you look at a maritime chart, all you see is a bunch of unmarked rocks. Other than rainwater, there’s no drinkable water, no infrastructure.

The steep cliffs you see around us are the remains of the rim of an ancient volcano’s caldera.

The sheer cliffs on the east side are unclimbable, and the extensive reef enclosing the cove on the west side is too dangerous for most ships to navigate.

Most people don’t even know this place exists. ”

“But you do,” I pointed out the obvious. “How?”

“The land has been in my family for generations.”

I opened my mouth and closed it. “You own this place?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.” How could a self-described ‘lowly Marine’ own this land? I went out on a limb and added a shot of sarcasm to boot. “If that’s the case, you must be a descendant of royalty.”

“Royalty that’s no longer royal.” He stunned me with his straightforward admission.

“My mother came from a long line of Hawaiian rulers. Once the monarchy was overthrown in 1893, her family fought to keep their lands. They got the dregs of the islands, the rocks no one else wanted. That’s why this place now belongs to me. ”

“Wowzers.” The revelation that this unassuming hunk was a descendant of a historic line made me blink several times.

My father had bought himself a title and pretended to be a nobleman, while the guy before me had real oceanic royal blood in his veins.

I looked at him with fresh eyes. Raised in the pretentious Astor world, I admired his down-to-earth attitude about—well—everything.

Even better, he didn’t seem to mind my barrage of questions or my sarcastic streak.

He sat at ease on the cushioned bench with his elbows propped on the gunwales, radiating his cool, laid-back vibes, impervious to my curiosity.

Hell, he might be the only person other than my siblings who was impermeable to my intensity.

Maybe he was Cece-proof. Had I finally met a guy who wasn’t intimidated by me?

Yeah , he was too freaking smart to fit into my idiot category.

“So,” I charged forward. “Technically, are you a prince?”

“Hardly.” His rich laughter stole my breath. “Like I said, the royal families melted away. The old bloodlines are irrelevant. My mother met my father while working as a cashier at the Navy exchange when he was stationed in Oahu.”

“Your dad was in the Navy?”

“He was a Marine from California. When I was growing up, we moved frequently between naval stations. So, not a prince.”

“Then how do you define yourself?”

“I’m your average American mutt, a simple guy who loves to surf, and a Navy brat who followed in my father’s footsteps and enlisted to travel the world. I’m also a Marine who found a second family, first with the Raiders, and then with Tracker Team and Dashiell Dagger.”

“A simple guy, a Navy brat, and a humble Marine who has royal oceanic genes in his blood and owns piles of rocks here and there,” I pointed out more tartly than I intended. “A chill, friendly, hunky surfer dude that exudes charm, personality, and bravery.”

He made a show of opening his mouth and widening his eyes. “Did you just toss me a few compliments?”

I lowered my chin and smirked. “Your big ego doesn’t need a boost.”

“You’d never let that happen, so no worries.” Chuckling, he curled his middle fingers, stretched out his thumb and pinky, and rotating his hand, gave me the Shaka sign.

“You know,” I ventured. “Hanging loose is not my style.”

“Obviously.” Mirth sparkled in his eyes, and despite the heart-stopping dimples, I found no judgment in his grin. “Were you going somewhere with your interrogation? What was the point you were trying to make?”

“That you are too good to be true,” I offered bluntly. “Men like you don’t really exist. And if you tell me you play the ukulele, your favorite song is Somewhere Over the Rainbow , and you’re a top-of-the-line hula dancer, I’m going to drop you into my cliché category right here, right now.”

“Good to know you’ve got a cliché category,” he said. “I imagine it’s just one of many.”

How the hell did he know that?

“That’s a no to the ukulele,” he offered. “I’m gonna go meh on Somewhere Over the Rainbow , unless it’s Iz’s version, may he rest in Pō . It always leaves me misty-eyed. Do you have a problem with that, Cece?”

“Who? Me?” Whenever I heard the sweet melody, I wanted to cry rivers of emotion, but I would never admit that. “A problem with sentimentality? No, not me.”

“’Cause you’re so tough?” he ventured.

I taunted him with another smirk. “Do you have a problem with toughness, Kai?”

“I like toughness. Especially mental toughness. As for the hula dance thing, sorry but not sorry,” he said. “My grandmother made sure I learned the traditional dances. It’s a way to honor my heritage. Does that mean you’re gonna stick me into your Hawaiian cliché category for-fucking-ever?”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

This man was a mix of so many things. He was a prime example of the American melting pot and yet didn’t fit into any one category. He was hunky and humble, tough as nails and soft as a down duvet, sensitive and strong. Talk about a bunch of contradictions.

“Sorceress, please, have mercy.” He pressed his hands together as if in prayer and kept a straight face. “I can’t bear to be anyone’s cliché. It’s humiliating. Punch me, kick me, shoot me, stab me, but don’t punish me like this. I don’t wanna be December in some Hawaiian calendar.”

The laughter burst out of me, rusty but honest. His pleading expression made his plight even more comical. He was doing his best not to laugh himself, but he was losing.

An amused smile curved my lips. “Would you settle for January, then?”

He rolled his eyes. “Please kill me now.”

“All right.” I had to get a hold of my giggles. “Not a cliché.”

“You have my most sincere gratitude.”

Time to stop fangirling the man and move on to the business of finding out more about him. “Is this your personal boat?” I asked.

He looked around and flashed a proud smile. “She is.”

“You’ve done well for yourself.”

“I’ve got what I need and a few extras, like Serenity , but money is not a huge incentive to me.”

“That sounds a little disingenuous.” This was my chance to test whether he fit into my gold digger category. “Everyone loves money.”

“As a means to an end, maybe,” he admitted. “When your goal is to enjoy the present and live at peace with who you are, you don’t need a lot of money.”

“But you want it, right?” I pushed the issue, willing his aura to assist me in my quest for truth. “You make a lot of dough plying your trade.”

“True.” As if responding to my summons, his remarkable aura reappeared and purred in my ears. The radiance made me squint as he continued to speak. “Dagger is a generous boss, and BB is a co-op that rewards its team members well.”

“A guy as smart as you could turn into a money-making machine.”

“I’ll take the smart and reject the money-making machine wholeheartedly.”

“My father did it.”

“No offense, but the last thing I ever want to be is someone like your father.”

“No offense taken.” His aura shimmered for a second, as if betraying a whiff of indignation on his part, but I was relentless. “So, if making money is not your thing, why work for Dash and Tracker Team?”

“Because I love my job,” he said. “I love the change it can bring about in the world and the brothers and sisters I fight with. I can’t imagine doing anything else.

It’s got nothing to do with greenbacks. I got paid what most people would consider a pittance while I was on active duty, and yet I served proudly. ”

Why did I feel as if I’d been elegantly but firmly put in my place?

Because he cut you down to size, you mean bitch, and also proved he’s not from Astor-la-la-land.

His aura confirmed every word he said. It disqualified him from my gold digger category. He was so damn hard to classify.

“Making money is not a goal for me,” he concluded. “How about you?”

“My father is super loaded, not me,” I clarified.

“His fortune belongs to you and your sisters now,” he reminded me. “Do you realize that now that he’s gone, you’ll be able to fund your research however you want?”

I opened my mouth and then… closed it.

I hadn’t had time to think about it until this moment. Kai was right. I turned my thoughts inward. His aura slowly faded away, as if tired of being at my beck and call.

Perhaps I was a heartless bitch, but I couldn’t muster much grief for my father’s passing.

The damage he’d inflicted on my sisters and me was too painful.

On the upside, at last, my life belonged to me, and I had the resources to advance my work.

On the downside, from now on, I couldn’t blame my father for my failures.

The air swooshed out of my lungs. I had no one to disappoint anymore.

Well, except for myself. Yikes. The weight I carried on my shoulders—the need to prove myself at every turn—didn’t feel any lighter now that Father was gone.

It felt as crushing as always, especially when I had to find Affie and protect my sisters.

A wave of worry overwhelmed me. Trying to suppress it, I tipped my head back and drained my water glass.

My anxiety put me back on the offensive. “I’m going to guess you’ve got an intel background. Are you good enough to hide shit from me?”

“You’re brilliant, Cece,” he said, refilling my glass. “No need to prove that to me. I have no intention of hiding shit from you. I have an intel background, but you’ll get no lies from me, no deception. It’s like I told you before. I want peace between us.”

His aura made another appearance, and I squinted at its brightness. Truth. A pair of sunglasses would be helpful around this guy. For a gal who had grown up in a high society ripe with lies, innuendo, and intrigue, he and his aura were a refreshing, if blinding, change.

“Are you done with your interrogation?” Kai teased me with a tilt of his head.

Oops, I’d overstepped even Kai’s generous patience.

“How about we talk about you?” he proposed. “I have a couple of questions.”

“Don’t you have that nifty profile on me?” I might have mocked him a little, but I was squirmy. I reached for my glass again and held it against my chest, as if it could shield me from his questions.

“I want to know more than the woman on paper.” He paused, then asked, “How long had you been at the lighthouse when I found you?”

“That’s for me to know.” I took another sip of my water. It failed to cool my nerves or slow my jittery foot. I’d kept my secrets for three years. Sharing them now felt weird, not to mention terrifying.

“Oh, come on.” He flashed those damnable dimples. “Your stint as the princess in the tower is over. I’ve told you a lot about me. Your turn.”

“I was never a princess,” I snapped, even though I had trapped myself in a tower.

The lighthouse had burned down, and I wasn’t going back.

Soon, I’d have to rejoin the human race.

A serious case of nerves squeezed my throat.

The good news was I was no longer trapped in the Spartan lighthouse.

I was free. Well, except for the bunch of psycho mercs hunting me and my sisters.

And my high standards. And my determination to find a cure at all costs.

Shit. I rubbed my forehead. Sometimes I exhausted myself.

I had to acclimate to the changes coming my way. My future—if I survived—included my sisters, and eventually, the rest of the world. It was a terrifying prospect, and yet Kai was easy to talk to. I filled my lungs with air. I might as well start my return-to-society experiment with him.