The Dark Edge Chronicles - Hardwire

Birth of a Nation

 A heartbeat later, Mordecai stepped out onto the flat clearing just in front of the sturdy shack that was the outpost, a lazy coil of smoke slowly rising from the metal pipe chimney, his supper cooking. All around him, already cast into shadow, was the island's thick jungle, growing nearly up to the shack's very walls, reaching heavenward to catch the sun on this, the island's highest point.

He was still frowning when he took hold of the shack's door and pulled it open via the simple rope handle attached to the door's weathered front. And looked up to find the stunning blonde Melanie, the British psionic leading the charge in unifying the refugees under Mordecai's banner, sitting at his tiny table.

If anything, the man in black's frown deepened as he gazed down at her smiling face.

"Sorry," she said softly, standing. She was dressed as simply as he was, in a loose-fitting tee shirt and baggy shorts, sandals on her feet. The loose clothing, however, did nothing to hide her incredible body. Somehow the loose fabric had discovered just the right places to cling to in the heat and humidity that dominated the island's climate now, at high summer, emphasizing every amazing curve.

"It was open." She indicated the door with a gesture. Her voice was smooth and velvety, a marked contrast to the frightened woman he had rescued from the breeding facility seemingly forever ago.

"So you invited yourself in," Mordecai curtly noted, stepping past her to throw his towel into the tiny bedroom occupying the back half of the shack, separated from the rest of the building by a simple wall. That done, he turned to face her, arms crossing over his chest.

"You're not going to make another pitch to me, are you? What's going first? The top or your shorts?"

Melanie blushed, the reddening of her face serving only to make her more attractive.

"Okay, I admit, that wasn't my finest moment," she husked hoarsely before clearing her throat, clearly embarrassed. "But I was talking and acting from the heart. That hasn't changed."

A small smile touched her lips as the flush on her face began to fade, her beautiful green eyes roaming over Mordecai's muscular form before she could stop them.

"Have you ... been swimming?" she asked, abruptly a little breathless.

"In the lagoon." Mordecai stepped past her to check on the condition of his dinner, a hearty stew cooking slowly in a large pot sitting on top of an old wood burning stove. He gave it a stir with a wooden ladle he pulled from a hook on the wall.

"Mmmmm ... I bet your skin is all ... salty."

Hearing the naked desire building in her voice, Mordecai turned to look over his shoulder, eyebrow raised.

"Is there something that you came here for, Melanie? Or did you just drop by to drool?"

"Uh, yes." Another blush washed across the blonde psionic's face. "I actually came here to invite you to our meeting tonight."

"Meeting? Down in the compound?" Mordecai frowned. "Are you trying to tell me that the refugees have stopped bickering long enough to actually have a meeting?"

A confident smile replaced the uncertain look on Melanie's face as she nodded.

"Much more than just a meeting, Mordecai," she explained. "The entire group is finally in consensus. We've even made a few decisions that we'd like your input on, if you don't mind."

"No, I suppose not," Mordecai replied, his frown not fading after he took a tentative taste of the stew. Just right; time to find a bowl. "When's this meeting?"