Touched by an Alien

moved. Because things were a blur. But when the blur stopped, the terrorists were unarmed and on the ground, and my side had the guns.
    Unfortunately, Beverly had Martini. She’d ripped his shirt open. Even in this situation I could look at his chest and get turned on. She held the needle right at the base of his neck. “You move and I’ll ensure he never has a reason to care about proliferation of our race ever again.”
    There wasn’t a lot of time. But we had all I needed in the room already. “Christopher, fastball!”
    The needle flew out of Beverly’s hand and shattered. Being hit by a baseball traveling at least two hundred miles per hour will do that.
    Beverly shoved away from Martini, but not before Walker slammed the door shut. She was in the room, but moving so fast I couldn’t see her.
    “She’s going faster than we can see,” Lorraine called to me.
    Okay, no worries. “Hughes, batter up!”
    He tossed the bat to me, high, and I caught it and stood in front of Martini. I knew she was going to try to get him again, even before Christopher, especially since my three pilots had him surrounded.
    I swung the bat out and waited. She slammed into it, and the force spun me around. As we stopped—Beverly bent over the bat—I saw she had some nasty-looking implements in her hands as well as another needle.
    I pulled the bat back and swung it, right at her head. “Get away from my man, you fugly-loving cunt.”
    I connected and she went flying. She hit the wall, and Jerry bent down. “She’s dead.”
    “Good.” I meant it. I dropped the bat and grabbed Martini as he slid to the floor. “Jeff, baby, hold on.”
    He leaned his head against me. “I had to—”
    I kissed his forehead. “Hush. I know. You did the right thing.” I reached behind him to try to get his wrists untied but I couldn’t do it.
    Christopher came over, knelt down and took care of it. “Jeff, why didn’t you tell me?” He put his hand on Martini’s upper arm.
    “Couldn’t … promised …”
    “It’s okay, Jeff. It’s all right.” I held him more tightly and tried not to be afraid.
    “He’s fading fast,” Claudia said as she came over. “We have to give him some adrenaline.” She had a needle in her hand.
    Christopher grabbed her wrist as I shouted, “Nothing from this room!” Claudia looked confused. “Everything in here’s suspect. Beverly wasn’t kidding—Yates doesn’t want Jeff or Christopher to reproduce. Jeff needs adrenaline when he’s like this, so don’t trust something that says adrenaline if it’s in here.”
    Claudia shook her head. “We don’t have any more time.”
    I couldn’t let him die, couldn’t lose him. But somehow, I knew what to do. I put my hands on both sides of his face, so he had to look at me. “Jeff, baby, it’s okay. Just look at me, only at me. I know it hurts, all the emotions, all the feelings. They aren’t trying to hurt you, baby. Come on, you can shut them out, I know you can.”
    “Can’t … burned out …” His eyes closed.
    “Jeffrey Stuart Martini, you open your eyes and look at me.” He did, and he looked shocked. “You know how to block. I know you’re tired, but it’s not an option. Yates is still out there. If you die, he wins. You promised me you’d never let that happen.”
    “Mother?” Christopher whispered.
    Lorraine came over and put her hand on his shoulder. “Hush.”
    I could see Martini trying and also see him failing. My mind kicked—I had to do something, too. Just as Beverly had, I needed to send emotions to him. But not the ones that caused pain.
    I focused my thoughts onto how being around him made me feel—safe, happy, smart, funny, pretty. I concentrated on what making love to him had been like, how incredible and satisfying. And I thought about him and Christopher and what they meant to each other. “You can’t leave us, Jeff,” I whispered. “We both need you around too much.”
    It was helping, but it wasn’t enough. “Take care of him for me,” Martini managed to gasp out.
    I had to hold onto him. There was only one thing I hadn’t done, one emotion I hadn’t allowed to surface. I admitted to myself that the emotion was real. I thought about what being without him would mean and how I’d realized somewhere in the last two days that I couldn’t face it. There was a word for this feeling, but I’d been afraid to say it, because I wasn’t sure if it was just lust.
    But it wasn’t.
    His eyes opened, and