Witness [A First Contact Romance]

37. Year Zero

Lumeia

0 (L.D.)

17 Years later

The off-beat tempo of pistons firing and rubber balls thudding off the wall echoed around the stone boundaries of the training room.

Jace caught each of the projectiles that the machine shot rapidly against the walls, all while keeping his feet planted firmly in place and his head forward, eyes shifting to follow the trajectory of each ball. The latest upgrades to his bioware had made the once challenging task annoyingly simple.

Heat warmed his hands as he caught the thirtieth ball in a row. He didn't even have to count. His mind tracked it without him meaning to, offering up the number without effort. Anger burrowed in his chest. For weeks he'd crushed all his previous records. He was ready. And nothing infuriated him more than that.

Ten years, dozens of upgrades, countless hours of training, but he was still so weak in the only way that actually mattered to him. It was clear because despite that there was no joy to be had in the terrible days to come, he could not help but feel the misguided and undeniable prick of joy at the thought of maybe glimpsing her again.

Pathetic.

Thud.

A ball flew off the wall and he shot his hand out to catch it. Wheeled around and threw it right at the opening of the machine where another ball was about to release.

The two collided in the tube and splintered it along its seams. A sucking sound released from the pressure building and then balls burst into the air in every direction.

He slammed his heel against the machine, knocked it to the ground, and then ripped the exposed cables away from inside. Finally, it gasped and died.

His breath came in shallow spurts.

"We can do something about that temper." Vehru spoke from behind him but he didn't turn to look. His fists coiled.

"Although," she continued. "A temper can be useful."

He breathed out slowly. "What do you want?"

"It's time. But you must know that, given your little fit."

"Like I said." Jace ground his teeth. "What do you want?"

"I thought we should talk?"

"What more is there to say? I have my orders."

Quiet footsteps. He only heard them because he still had his improved hearing turned on. Vehru had the steps of a seasoned killer. Slender fingers settled against his forearm, tender in their touch.

"This is going to be hard for you. It's okay to need help." Vehru's voice was soft. Actually soft.

"Don't you fucking dare." Jace ripped away.