Category: Zan
Rating: Adult
Author note: I want to thank all of you who have left feedback on this story. I write because I enjoy immersing myself into the land of Roswell (most specifically Max and Liz, so featuring Zan was a bit of a departure for me this time), but YOU are the reason I continue to post. Without your support I probably wouldn’t still be here. Thank you for joining me each week in my little corner of Roswell.
And now …
Afterburn
Epilogue
Zan lies in bed with the sheet covering the lower half of his naked body and one hand tucked behind his head. It’s dark, and late, and he should be sleeping, but for some reason he can’t. His body is sated from an energetic night of intimacy, but there’s something buzzing around inside him that won’t let him relax. Evidently Lisa doesn’t have that problem. She’s sound asleep beside him. He looks at her and smiles, thinking of how there are no secrets between them now, no reason to hold any part of himself back. When they make love they connect on a level he never dreamed existed, sharing every thought, every touch, every emotion.
He shifts to his left side, drawing his right leg out from under the sheet. He’s warm tonight, and the cool air feels good on his skin. He watches Lisa as she sleeps, so relaxed, her features so smooth and calm, quite different from an hour ago when her hair was damp with sweat, and her throat was moaning his name, and the smell of sex was in the air. She can be a tiger when she wants him, which luckily for him is most of the time. In the weeks since she’s been back they’ve christened every room in the house, and the garden, too. He smiles at the memory, there’s something almost primal about making love under the stars.
He lifts his hand and lightly touches her face. He doesn’t want to wake her, but looking at her ethereal beauty makes him want her again. He’s surprised to feel his desire stir; he thought she wore him out earlier, but obviously not. When it comes to sharing his soul with Lisa, he can never get enough.
His fingertips brush a trail down the pulsing vein in her throat. She feels warm, and vibrant, but there’s something else inside her he can’t quite put a name to. That same buzz he feels inside himself. He turns his hand over and brushes the back of his fingers against the swell of her breast. Her nipple, soft and relaxed a moment ago, hardens beneath his touch.
He thinks it looks darker than normal, but that must just be a trick of the light. He leans in and touches her with the tip of his tongue; he can’t seem to stop his insatiable need tonight. She tastes sweet, and a little bit salty, the sweat from before has dried on her skin. He covers her nipple with his mouth, sucking the now rigid peak in, smiling when she shifts and lets out an erotic sigh. Even in sleep she sounds sexy.
He pulls the sheet down, exposing the length of her nude body. It’s something he’ll never get tired of looking at, or wanting to touch. She rolls from her side to her back, stretching like a feline, opening one sleepy looking eye. Her voice comes out raspy.
“Is it morning?”
“Not yet,” Zan answers. He kisses his way down the center of her stomach with a certain destination in mind. His hand touches her knee and slowly slides upwards.
“You have a Council meeting in the morning, don’t you?” her fingers thread into his hair.
“Yeah,” he pauses to kiss her navel, making her gasp. He lifts his head, smiling, “Ticklish?”
“Not usually,” she squirms, laughing when he starts to tickle her sides. “Stop! STOP!”
“Are you sure?” he grins, rolling on top of her so she can’t get away from him.
“ZAN!” she shrieks, trying to pull his hands away from her.
“Okay, I’ll be good,” he settles between her legs.
“You better be,” she teases, with more than a little innuendo behind it.
“Is that a challenge?” he asks, more than up for the task. When she quirks her eyebrow at him he seizes the opportunity to meet that challenge and conquer it. He grabs her wrists and pins them above her head.
“You’re so strong,” her eyes sparkle at him. “Now what are you going to do with me?”
“Well let me show you.”
He leans down like he’s going to kiss her, but just before their lips touch he pulls back, leaving her wanting. Her dark eyes light with fire. Sparks fly between them.
He lowers his head again, zooming in on her lips, then veering to his left, nuzzling the tender skin behind her right ear and down her throat. He hears her moan, which only heightens his excitement. She writhes beneath him, which intensifies his own libido, wanting to be inside her as much as she wants it, but that will have to wait. There are other things to do first.
After he nuzzles her throat sufficiently to arouse her, he releases her wrists in order to make his way down her body. She feels ripe beneath his fingers, like a rumberry ready for plucking. His mouth is already watering in anticipation of her special taste. He stops to sample her breasts again, enjoying the way she arches her back when his mouth surrounds her nipple. She smells muskier than normal, a scent that nearly drives him to abandon his plan to slowly seduce her.
He slides lower on the bed, settling into position to feast on her sweet center. He uses his thumbs to spread her lower lips, then his tongue to furrow between them.
“Zan!” she thrusts her pelvis into his face. He laps at her again and again, as aroused as she is it won’t be long until he claims his first victory. He feels her hands in his hair, tugging ever so slightly as her fists tighten and relax.
His tongue goes inside her, long, and probing just the right spots, while his thumb stimulates her externally.
“Don’t ever cut your hair,” she groans, holding onto him tightly. He sends a burst of power through his thumb, scoring a direct hit, making her body jolt off the bed. “Zan! ZAN!”
Hearing his name, shouted with such unconcealed passion, sends his own desire soaring. He scrambles to his knees, declaring his obvious need. “Baby, I’ve gotta have you!”
She’s dripping from her core, he’s dripping from his manhood. He usually takes more time than this, more care to make it perfect for her, but something is driving them tonight. Her scent is stronger, his need is greater, the urge to lay his seed inside her is too strong to deny.
He lifts her hips and slams into her depths, burying himself to the hilt. He pulls himself free, than slams home again, inflamed by how her wetness glistens on his skin and drips down the tight sac surrounding his balls. A part of him wants to turn her over, to bite the back of her neck as he claims possession of her, to drill into her until he’s spurted every drop of his essence inside her. It scares him for a moment how wildly out of control he is, until he realizes she’s just as bad. She’s clawing at his back, his butt, slamming up to meet him thrust for thrust. It escalates quickly, like a rocket ship on overdrive, and then they’re there together, blasting into outer space.
“Zan! ZAN!” she cries, her internal muscles contracting around him as a geyser erupts inside her. His arms circle around her hips, pinning her body to his as he unloads, each hard thrust depositing more and more of his life giving fluids at the door to her womb. Minutes pass before his body regains some semblance of normalcy, and even longer until he regains the ability to speak.
“Jesus, Lisa,” he collapses, still buried deeply inside her. “That was … that was …”
“Intense?” she whispers in his ear.
“That’s a good word for it,” he chuckles, trying to catch his breath. He feels her heavy breathing begin to slow, her heart rate returning to a normal rhythm. He pulls his softening length from her body and rolls onto his back. “Also, exciting, exhilarating, stimulating –”
“Impressive?” her eyes sparkle.
“Very impressive,” he shifts onto his side and props his head up with his hand. “If I do say so myself.”
“Hey!” she slaps at his chest. “You weren’t the only one involved!” He grabs her hand and brings it to his lips.
“I couldn’t have done it alone,” he teases, warmed by the sound of her lilting laughter. He kisses her fingertips, then makes his way up her arm, placing small kisses along her shoulder and throat, before finally reaching her mouth. They share a slow, intimate kiss, a sweet and satisfying end to a night of intense lovemaking.
“You do that so well,” she sighs.
“What? Kiss?”
“That, too,” she grins.
“You can’t get enough of me, can you?” he boasts.
“Never,” she easily agrees.
Zan yawns, sated now to the point of sleepiness. The hum in his body is still there, but he’s not worried about it. Whatever it is, it feels right, like a strengthening of the bond between them.
“We should probably go to sleep,” his hand glides down her body, caressing her throat, her left breast, down her ribs. “The Council wants to finalize the plans for the irrigation project in the Southern Quadrant. I wouldn’t want to nod off right in the middle of my presentation.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“You keep me up, and I might,” Zan insists.
“Keep you up?” Lisa quirks an eyebrow.
“Don’t start!” Zan scolds, though his eyes are lit from within. “It’s your fault I’m like this.”
“My fault?”
“You know what you do to me,” Zan says, not about to let her play little Miss Innocent. His hand slides down her ribs to her stomach, then lower. “You can’t – whoa!” he jerks his hand back suddenly. “What the fuck?!”
Lisa startles. “What?!”
Zan sits up straight, staring at Lisa’s stomach. “Did you see that?”
“See what?”
Zan tentatively reaches out his hand again. He lays it flat against her stomach, then snatches it back again. “That!”
Lisa’s mouth drops open. A light glows under her skin, bright when Zan touched her, but now beginning to fade away. She touches her stomach, making the light flare again.
Zan hunches down on his knees beside her, sliding into the grip of fear. There’s something inside her, some presence he can feel, and the thought is becoming paralyzing. Memories of one of the worst days of his life come flooding back to him. If she’s infected, like Kel was, how can he do what has to be done? And how can he live with himself after?
“Oh my,” Lisa caresses her stomach. Her skin glows beneath her hand.
A slow smile spreads across her face, while Zan’s face darkens. How can he get it out without killing her? And where did it come from? The Skins should be dead. All of them. He killed the last one with his own hands. How could one have infected her?
“Can you feel her?” Lisa says in awe.
Zan feels physically ill. He can’t kill Lisa. He can’t! It almost destroyed him when he had to kill Kel; it was only his friend’s alien metabolism that kept him from dying. But Lisa isn’t a Shapeshifter. She’ll never survive an attempt to remove the parasite from her body. How could this have happened?
“Give me your hand.”
Zan steels himself, knowing what has to be done. The safety of the planet is more important than the two of them. He’s done what he can to fulfill his mission here; he can’t be expected to do any more. In the short time they’ve had together he’s been happier than he ever dreamed possible. He knows he can’t live a life without her. He won’t. If he has to take her life to end the Skins once and for all, then he’ll pray that there’s an afterlife he can join her in quickly. This life will hold nothing for him after she’s gone.
Lisa takes his hand, placing it flat against her stomach. She smiles despite the stricken look on his face. “Zan, she’s not a Skin.”
The hum inside him doubles, a vibration that he feels to his very core, like nothing he’s ever experienced before. It’s so intense; he snatches his hand back before he can be burned. There’s energy inside her. Life. As vibrant as the aura surrounding her. He focuses on that now; the rich crimson color that radiates from her, not black like the aura of a Skin. But if she’s not infected, then what is that presence he feels? And why is her stomach glowing? And why does Lisa keep saying …
Zan tears his eyes away from her stomach to stare into Lisa’s face. “Did you say … she?”
“I did, “Lisa pats his hand. “There’s nothing wrong, Zan. It’s completely normal.”
“Normal?” he echoes as it all starts to sink in. There’s something growing inside her, but if it’s not a Skin, then that can only mean one other thing. “Are you saying - are you telling me – are you …?”
A smile lights her face as she nods in the affirmative. When he just stares at her, her aura begins to darken. “You’re not upset, are you? I thought this was something you wanted.”
“You’re pregnant?” Zan finally gets the words out. “I mean, just now, what we just did, we made a baby?”
“Apparently so,” Lisa smiles.
Zan reaches his hand out tentatively, almost afraid to touch her. It feels so alien to him, that something living inside her body might actually be a good thing. Lisa covers his hand and presses it against her stomach. The light flares even brighter than before.
“Look at that,” a smile curls the corner of his lips. He stretches out beside Lisa, resting his head on her ribs, staring in fascination at the glowing spot on her lower abdomen.
Zan, Prime Regent of Antar, is going to be a father.
* * * * *
Zan stands by the bathroom sink looking at his reflection in the mirror. Beads of water drip from his long hair and run in rivulets down his shoulders and his back. His chest is smooth, except for the line of hair that starts just below his navel, and disappears beneath his towel. He rubs his hand along his chin, feeling the bristly whiskers of nearly a weeks worth of growth.
“Zan?”
He smiles at the sound of Lisa’s sleepy voice coming from the bedroom.
“In here,” he answers, running his glowing hand over his cheeks and chin, removing the unwanted hair. No razors are necessary on Antar.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Lisa scolds. “We’re going to be late for the dedication.”
Zan smiles into the mirror. She goes with him to every state function, though these days the size of her belly is usually the main topic of discussion. The Antarians fawn all over her; they’ve never seen a pregnant woman before.
“We have plenty of time,” Zan calls out.
“Oh –” Lisa groans.
“Lisa?” Zan’s brows knit together. When he hears her groan again he hurries into the bedroom.
At seven months, her belly is huge. He sees her sitting on the edge of the bed in a satin nightgown, with her hands pressed against the small of her back, reminding him of the ordeal she’s going through.
“Lisa –”
“Don’t start,” she sends him a warning glare.
Zan kneels in front of her, with one hand on her extended abdomen, and the other on her back, sending a stream of healing power into her to try to ease her pain.
“Lisa, this isn’t right. You shouldn’t be putting yourself through this. Let me call Mira –”
“No!” Lisa rebuffs. “We’ve had this conversation before. I don’t want to have it again.”
“But it’s a simple procedure,” Zan insists. “She can have a pod ready in less than a day.”
Lisa spreads her hands protectively over her stomach. “My uterus is the only pod our baby needs.”
“But this isn’t normal,” Zan worries. He was born from a pod. So was she. Every Antarian on the planet was. Carrying the baby inside of her saps her strength and causes her physical pain. Back aches. Cramps in her legs. Heartburn and upset stomach. In the beginning, when she threw up all the time it made him sick with worry, no matter how “normal” she called it.
“Please, Lisa,” Zan tries again. “It won’t hurt the baby. A pod will be nice and safe for her to grow in, and we’ll see her everyday –”
“No,” Lisa covers his lips with her fingertips to silence him. “Hatching from a pod might be normal for Antarians, but this,” she presses his hand against her belly, “this is normal for us.”
Zan feels movement under his palm, a life he helped create thriving and growing, nurtured by her mother’s body. Despite his misgivings, he smiles as a tiny hand presses back against his.
“See?” Lisa says, smiling now. “This is our normal. I wouldn’t change it for anything.”
Zan looks at her face conceding defeat once again. Ava teases him about it all the time, how with just one look Lisa can take all the fight right out of him. She’s too stubborn for her own good, but if this is what she wants, he’ll back off for now. He cups the round ball that is her belly, telling the little person inside, “Be nice to your mommy. No kicking. No somersaults. No gymnastics of any kind. That’s an order.”
The baby responds by landing a strong kick to Zan’s hand.
“She listens about as well as you do,” Zan smirks at Lisa.
Lisa runs her fingers through the long strands of his hair. “We really should decide on a name. We can’t keep calling her “The Baby”.”
As she says it, she doesn’t miss the way Zan’s eyes shift to her stomach, becoming wistful, his aura darkening by some unvoiced sadness. Her hand curls comfortingly around the back of his neck, leaning close to brush her lips against his forehead before saying, “Go on. You can tell me.”
Still kneeling in front of her, Zan hesitates but there’s no sense trying to hide anything from her. She knows him inside and out. He takes a deep breath and admits, “There is a name, but –” his voice lowers, “you probably won’t like it …”
Lisa cups his face between her hands, lifting his chin to re-establish eye contact. He’s a complicated man, so sure and strong in some ways, so fragile in others.
“You want to name her Linta, don’t you?”
Zan covers her hands with his and brings them to his chest. He can’t hide the look of unveiled hope in his eyes. “She’d go by Lina when she’s older, but yes – when she’s born – it’d mean a lot to me if we could name her Linta – if you don’t mind – or we can pick something else, if you want –”
Lisa silences Zan with a kiss. When their lips part she presses Zan’s hand against her belly. “Linta’s going to love her name.”
As if to affirm that, Linta does a barrel roll, making Lisa laugh out loud. “See?” her eyes sparkle. “She loves it already.”
Zan wraps his arms tightly around Lisa and tries his best to be a man about it, but there’s no hiding his emotional reaction. It takes a minute for the lump in his throat to subside enough to allow him to speak again.
“I love you,” he whispers shakily into Lisa’s ear before dropping down to kiss her belly. “And you too, little Linta,” he caresses the round swell that is his daughter. “I promise, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll never let anything bad happen to you.”
Lisa smiles, stroking her hand through his hair. It’s a promise she knows Zan will have no trouble keeping.
* * * * *
The new sun rises above the Solidin Mountains revealing unusual activity on the desert floor. The ground swarms with Antarians scurrying like ants up and down the emerging walls of a new structure, what will soon be the planet’s first functioning hoverport in more than 50 years. Zan stands in the distance, hands at his sides, a light breeze stirring his hair, observing the activity with a practiced eye.
In the months since the war ended, he’s thrown his energies into rebuilding the planet. Cities that were once leveled by the Skins are now under reconstruction. Hoverports, like the one he’s guiding development of here, are springing up at every major city, reconnecting the population and improving transportation of goods and services. Commerce is on the rise.
A sense of satisfaction fills him, watching his design come to life. To see what started out as nothing more than an idea in his head, then put to paper, finally take on solid physical form. It’s a creative side of himself he never knew existed until recently. In all his years on Earth, and then later during his single-minded pursuit of the Skins, he never looked beyond his immediate goals to really see what kind of man he was. For the longest time he didn’t want to, for fear of seeing the monster that lived within, but all that is behind him now. With the support of Lisa’s love, and friends and family, he’s finally been able to bury his past, and learned to embrace his future.
A hovercraft flies overhead and circles around behind him. Zan lifts his hand to shield his eyes from swirling sand as it lands. Moments later, Kel climbs out and joins him.
“Looks like construction is coming along nicely,” Kel observes.
“Right on schedule,” Zan nods. “Hal’s a good project manager.”
“That’s good,” Kel slides his hands into his pockets.
“I thought you and Ava were going over phase two of the Delvin Project today. What are you doing out here?”
Kel shrugs. “She had something else to do.”
“Like what?” Zan grumbles. “That project is important. We want to get construction completed before the bad weather sets in.”
“I know, I know,” Kel agrees. “But what can ya do? Women! They change their minds at a moments notice.”
“Damnit,” Zan reaches for the orb on his belt. “I’ll call her –”
Kel cuts him off. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”
“Why not?” Zan frowns.
“She’s kind of busy.”
“Doing what?” Zan puts his hands on his hips, irritated by Ava’s apparent shirking of her duties. He’s not prepared for Kel’s casual answer.
“She’s helping Lisa give birth.”
The blood drains from Zan’s face. “WHAT?!”
Kel laughs as Zan fumbles for his orb, then drops it, then scrambles to pick it up.
“God damnit!” Zan finally gets hold of the orb but his hand is shaking too hard to activate it. “Where’s she at? When’d she go into labor? Why didn’t anyone tell me? God DAMNIT!”
“Give me that before you break it,” Kel grabs the orb away. “She’s at the Regence, her contractions started this morning, and she didn’t want you to know until it was time so you wouldn’t freak out.”
“Freak out?” Zan sputters. “FREAK OUT?!”
Kel grins from ear to ear. “It’s uncanny how well she knows you.”
Zan abandons the orb and runs for the hovercraft, in the middle of a full fledged panic attack.
“Hey, wait for me!” Kel chases after him.
Moments later Zan nearly crashes the hovercraft into the side of the Regence in his haste to land. He clambers down and races through the garden on the way to the back door, with Kel on his heels. He barges into the house, just in time to hear a bloodcurdling yell.
“Lisa! LISA!” he races through the house, following his instincts to lead him to her. He bursts into the bedroom to find Lisa red-faced and sweaty, straining though a contraction.
“Lisa!”
“Good. You made it,” Ava glances at them over her shoulder, then goes back to work helping Lisa through the contraction. “That’s it. Almost over now. Push. Push. Okay, relax.”
Lisa takes a deep breath and falls back against the oversized pillows behind her. Zan’s at her side in a second.
“Lisa, honey,” he pushes back the wet hair around her face. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you call me? I could have been here to help.”
“You mean get in the way,” Ava snarks.
Lisa slips her hand into Zan’s. “There was nothing you could do, except worry yourself into an ulcer. I wanted to spare you that –”
“And us,” Ava adds, smiling when Lisa sends her a ‘you’re not helping’ look.
“Anyway, you’re here now,” Lisa returns her attention to Zan. “And everything’s fine, and you didn’t miss anything except a lot of moaning and groaning.”
“Kind of like 9 months ago,” Kel laughs, though no one seems to appreciate his humor at the moment.
“No touching,” Mira scolds, rapping Zan on the back of his hand. “Not until you clean up first.”
“Here we go again,” Lisa groans, clutching Zan’s hand tightly, despite Mira’s scolding.
The pain of her contraction is transmitted into Zan, sending him to his knees. All of his fears over her choice of natural childbirth instead of a birth pod come flooding back to him; the contractions, the labor, the pain. He struggles just to breathe, sweat breaking out on his brow, his stomach quaking as she lets out another bloodcurdling yell. Her face turns red as she pushes. Her teeth clench together. The veins in her neck stand out. A pod birth is so much easier; how do humans ever survive this?
“That’s it,” Ava encourages, helping Lisa into a sitting position, “Almost there … almost … push hard. Give it everything you’ve got.”
Lisa shakes with the effort, perspiration pouring off her face, while Zan holds on for dear life. What she’s going through is just as bad as he imagined, worse even. He feels it all.
“Ahhh,” Lisa sighs as the contraction ends and her death grip on Zan’s hand relaxes. She falls back against the pillows to catch her breath.
“A few more like that and we’ll be done here,” Ava announces.
“Go,” Mira gives Zan a forceful nudge. “The head’s starting to crown. Go wash up so you don’t miss your daughter’s birth.”
For a moment Zan doesn’t move. He’s too stunned by everything that’s happening. When he got up this morning it was just another day, and now, everything is about to change. Lisa’s barely whispered “Hurry” makes him scramble to his feet. He washes his hands quickly at the bathroom sink, then uses his powers to remove the dirt from his leather clothes. When he returns to Lisa’s side it’s just in time for the next contraction.
“Are you ready?” Lisa asks, slipping her hand into his.
“No,” Zan admits with a nervous squeak. His fingers slide between hers, holding on as the contraction builds in intensity. He wants to cup her belly with his hand to ease the pain, but he doesn’t want to interfere with Linta’s birth. He senses all Lisa wants from him right now is his support, which he freely gives.
“That’s it, that’s it,” Mira encourages. “I see her head … her shoulders … push … that’s it … big push now … yes!”
Lisa lets out a guttural yell as little Linta slides into the world. Zan’s mouth falls open watching Mira lift the squirming little body onto Lisa’s bare stomach. There’s no surprise in the room that it’s a girl, they’ve known it since her conception, but seeing her in the flesh brings it all home. Lisa weeps from the joy of it, while Zan finds it nearly impossible to swallow past the lump in his throat.
“Oh my god,” Zan stares. Her flesh is pink and wet. Her hair is dark like Lisa’s, with little curls framing her face. Her fingers are the tiniest little things he’s ever seen.
As Mira delivers the afterbirth and Ava attends to Lisa, Zan stares at the newborn baby with a new emotion filling him, nearly overwhelming in its intensity. But this time Zan has no trouble giving it a name. It’s unlimited in its capacity, and all encompassing in its devotion.
His child is born today; a living, breathing testament to his love. It’s without a doubt the proudest moment of his life.
* * * * *
Purple clouds drift across the pink sky, heavily laden with rain, but luckily for the occupants in the garden the predicted showers have held off, as if nature knows better than to transgress on such an idyllic setting. Zan lies on his back with his head on Lisa’s lap, chewing on a blade of Antarian grass.
“That one looks like an elephant,” Zan points at one of the clouds. “Can you see the long trunk?” Twisting slightly, he looks up at Lisa and asks, “Did you see one when you were on Earth?”
“No,” she shakes her head, chuckling softly. “Roswell doesn’t have too many elephants roaming around. Did you ever see one?”
“Once,” Zan nods. “It was big. And grey.” He doesn’t mention where he was at the time, or why he happened to be in the vicinity of an elephant. They both know why. He doesn’t have to hide it from her now, but he doesn’t like to talk about it either. That life is in the past, which is where he wants it to stay.
“Well, we have aviettas,” Lisa offers, mentioning the leather winged birds native to Antar. “They’re better than elephants any day.”
Zan looks up at her knowing what she’s doing. Antar is her home. She’s steadfast in her devotion to it, from the smallest plankton in it’s oceans to the magnificent winged creatures that roam it’s skies. He has no fear of her ever wanting to go back to that far off planet without him.
He takes the blade of grass out of his mouth and sits up, watching Lisa as she nurses Linta. Her little mouth suckles at her mother’s breast, swollen now to provide life sustaining nutrients. They look so natural together he could watch them for hours.
“Somebody’s sleepy,” Lisa smiles as the suction of Linta’s mouth slackens. She pulls her breast away, not surprised when the baby doesn’t awaken.
“Can I hold her?” Zan asks, still hesitant to touch her for fear of breaking her. She’s such a tiny little thing.
“Of course,” Lisa beams, transferring the small bundle to his outstretched arms. He takes the baby, trying not to jostle her, but he feels like a big awkward oaf around her.
“Before you get too comfortable there you should burp her,” Lisa reminds him.
Zan hesitantly moves Linta to his shoulder and pats her back the way Lisa showed him. He feels the weight of his daughter’s small head on his shoulder, her curly dark hair against his chin, her sweet little baby breath tickling his throat. He rubs her back in a circle, smiling when he successfully coaxes a small bubble of air from her.
“That’s my girl,” Zan announces, bouncing her lightly.
“You’re getting better at that,” Lisa teases.
“Am I?” Zan flashes a quick smile.
“You’re good with kids,” she runs her finger along Linta’s rosy cheek. “We should have a dozen.”
“A dozen?!” Zan sputters at the thought. One was hard enough, twelve would surely kill him.
“Not all at once,” Lisa giggles.
“Maybe two,” Zan concedes.
“We’ll see,” she smiles that special smile she gets when she knows she’s going to get her way. Zan can’t deny her anything.
Before he can comment further the orb attached to his belt begins to vibrate, an incoming message he contemplates ignoring, then thinks better of it. As Prime Regent, his time isn’t his own.
“I better get that,” Zan hands Linta back to Lisa. He unclips the orb and activates it, expecting to see Luc or Kel or Ava, but he’s momentarily shocked speechless when the holographic image takes form and he sees who it really is. Lisa sits up straight clutching the baby close to her, while Zan bolts to his feet.
The holograph stabilizes; the image solidifies and comes into crystal clear focus, revealing in sharp detail the familiar face from his past. There’s no mistaking who she is.
“Liz,” Zan stares, with a knot of apprehension forming in his stomach. Her aura is fraught with emotion, and not the good kind. Worry, despair, and fear all clash together in violent hues around her. She looks almost the same as he remembers her, a little older maybe, and more mature, but the stress lines on her face are new. He sees the way her hand shakes as she rakes her fingers back through her disheveled hair.
“Oh thank God,” Liz seems to sigh as soon as she sees him.
Zan stands protectively in front of Lisa and his daughter. His body tenses, alert and on edge. His battle instincts are still as sharp as ever. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry to contact you like this,” Liz flicks her gaze toward Lisa and the baby, then returns her focus to Zan.
“What is it?” he demands.
“It’s Max,” Liz’s voice breaks. “He’s in trouble. Bad trouble. I’m sorry to ask this, but I have nowhere else to turn. Please,” she begs. “We need you. You have to come.”
Zan feels Lisa’s hand on his arm, a gesture that conveys tension and disquiet. Liz’s sudden appearance is disturbing, not just because there’s something wrong on Earth, but the implication of what her appearance means. That Max’s problem is somehow tied to Zan, and as such his responsibility to fix. Why else would she be here?
Zan looks at Lisa, her dark eyes troubled, yet one look confirms what he already senses. Their lives are about to change again.
But this time it won’t be about finding his way in the world, or about overcoming his sordid past and learning how to live.
This time it’s about meeting his past head on, and finding a way to survive it.
Author note:
So it’s pretty obvious that this isn’t the end of the story, just the end of this part of the story. At the end of Aftermath I posted a prologue for the third part of this trilogy, which gave you a peek at what the story entails. I’m not going to go into details here, but suffice it to say that the focus shifts from Antar back to Earth, with Max and Liz once again taking center stage. I’m going to take a little break before I start posting Aftershock, maybe two or three weeks. I’ve enjoyed this interlude on Antar. I hope you have too. See you again sometime in July.
Debbi
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