Power (Dark Anomaly #2) - Marina Simcoe Page 0,93

“The preparations for the event have been in full swing since the initial demand was received.”

“Even before I was notified?” I muttered, wishing I could just wake up and stop this nightmare.

“And who are you?” Mary threw at Carter sarcastically, one corner of her mouth lifting up. “The wedding planner?”

“Ma’am.” Miller rose from the table and moved on to my sister. “It’s imperative we deliver Isabella Bruno—”

“What do you mean by ‘deliver?’” Mary scoffed. “Bella is a free woman, she has rights—”

“Exactly,” Mom stepped in, balancing the twins on each hip. “You can’t just come in here and take her—"

“You’re forgetting that none of us are free, miss.” Trevin got up, shoving the chair back with a screeching noise, his jaw muscles flexed. “Not since the capitulation to the Kealans nine years ago.”

“We have orders to take your sister.” Miller crossed his arms over his chest. “Your permission is not required.”

“I don’t want to go.” Dread slithered up my spine, cold and sticky. “My home is here. My job. I have a life . . . I—”

“Isabella.” Trevin took a step my way.

“No.” I glared at him.

“She is not going anywhere,” Mary insisted stubbornly.

“This is all definitely way too fast.” Moving her gaze across the room, Mom appeared completely lost. “Why all this rush? Who is this man . . . um, this alien, who wants to marry her? Why? Does he like her? They’ve never met . . .”

“Like?” Miller grimaced. “What does that have to do with anything?”

The front door opened with a knock.

“Bell? Are you home?” I heard the familiar voice of Johnny, my boyfriend of four years.

Mom bounced on her heels to calm the twins who started fussing. “What I’m saying is that this is not a proper way to ask someone to marry you,” she argued with Miller.

Trevin pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re missing the point, ma’am. We are not the ones who make demands here.”

“Who is getting married?” Johnny walked in, tossing back his shoulder-length blond hair, some of which perpetually hung over his face.

“The freaking aliens are planning a wedding with Bella!” Mary blurted out, gesturing at Miller and Trevin, as if they were the aliens in question.

“Mary . . .” I exhaled, feeling like my knees were about to give out, a pounding headache threatened to set in.

Johnny moved a confused glance from her to Miller then finally to me. “Is that true?”

“We don’t have much time.” Trevin ignored him. “The flight to Capital City will take at least two hours. With the ceremony scheduled for tonight, the team will have to start getting you ready soon.”

Ready . . .

Ready for what? The wedding?

Tonight?

My heart skipped at the realization that all of this was real after all. Fear settled heavily in my chest, threatening to turn into panic.

“How will you ever get anyone ready to marry some alien dude?” Mary yelled at the three. “No matter how much time you have. Who the hell is he anyway?”

“We have not been given the groom’s identity,” Trevin replied coolly.

“Mary is right, though.” Mom shook her head. “This is insane.”

“Your family will be well compensated, of course,” Carter started.

“This is not about money!” Mary snapped.

“Her dad is in the hospital,” my mom muttered softly, shifting her pleading gaze from one of the men to another. “At the very least, you need to let her say goodbye . . . Why this rush?” she groaned.

“Johnny . . .” I grabbed my boyfriend by the arm and shoved him into the hallway, desperate to get away from it all, to shut the noise out, to get some time to do something . . . Anything.

“Is it true what they’re saying, Bell?” Johnny asked as I dragged him around the corner and out of everyone’s sight. “Are those SUV’s outside theirs? And is that Michael Trevin, for real?”

“Miss Bruno!” Miller’s voice thundered behind me.

“A minute, please. Give me one freaking minute!” I yelled back. “Johnny.” I whispered quickly, panic vibrating through me. “This can’t be happening . . .”

“Do they really want you to marry an alien?”

“Apparently, it’s the aliens who want this. Johnny.” Gripping his shoulders, I gave him a shake. “Please, help me. Let’s run.”

There was no way I was going to return to that kitchen where they all waited for me.

Until this morning, I’d been a regular small-town girl, working in a convenience store since I graduated high school eight years ago. With my oldest brother in and out of jail for the

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