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    The Child: Superhuman, #5
    The Child: Superhuman, #5
    The Child: Superhuman, #5
    Ebook115 pages1 hour

    The Child: Superhuman, #5

    By Suzanne D. Williams

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    About this ebook

    The energy coursing through them changed in form, as strong as it'd been, but different. It bound them together, driving him closer, until she could see the fine hairs dusting his chin.

     

    Dagger lowered his hands to his sides. "By the authority of the church and in accordance with the state, I pronounce you husband and wife." No sooner had he spoken then, in a wave of color, he faded from view.

     

    Margot started, searching the space for him. "Who are you?" she asked again. But she added a second question this time. "Who am I?"

    Stryke took his brother's seat and leaned toward her. "I'm superhuman," he said, "and you are my wife."

     

    Superhuman Stryke Dawkins has billions of dollars at his disposal. He can buy what he wants and go wherever he chooses without any struggle. Yet the poison beneath his skin has given him a solitary existence. It's better to live alone than risk innocent lives.

     

    Margot Fischer volunteered for a scientific study that promised her a child. Though the premise was strange, she has so much love to give and a wonderful example of parenting in the memory of her deceased mother. She can mold this young life placed in her hands and create a happy future for them both.

     

    But when an attack on her unborn child's life thrusts her and Stryke together, it seems the truth behind the baby's conception links directly to the Dawkins brothers' genetic history, and a truth about the child's existence that someone will stop at nothing to hide.

     

    Book 5 of 5 in the SUPERHUMAN series, a wild ride into the world of science fiction, by best-selling author, SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS. Clean Reads for Teens.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSuzanne D. Williams
    Release dateOct 5, 2016
    ISBN9781536527087
    The Child: Superhuman, #5
    Author

    Suzanne D. Williams

    Best-selling author, Suzanne D. Williams, is a native Floridian, wife, mother, and photographer. She is the author of both nonfiction and fiction books. She writes a monthly column for Steves-Digicams.com on the subject of digital photography, as well as devotionals and instructional articles for various blogs. She also does graphic design for self-publishing authors. She is co-founder of THE EDGE. To learn more about what she’s doing and check out her extensive catalogue of stories, visit http://suzanne-williams-photography.blogspot.com/ or link with her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/suzannedwilliamsauthor.

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      Book preview

      The Child - Suzanne D. Williams

      SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS

      www.feelgoodromance.com

      © 2016 THE CHILD (SUPERHUMAN) BOOK 5 by Suzanne D. Williams

      www.feelgoodromance.com

      www.suzannedwilliams.com

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher.

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

      The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them (Is 11:6 CSB).

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      From The Author

      CHAPTER 1

      The man across the aisle looked familiar, though she wasn’t sure why. There wasn’t anything remarkable about him, nor did it appear he shouldn’t be on the plane. For that matter, he hadn’t looked at her even once. Still, the feeling she knew him wouldn’t leave.

      The man seated on her immediate right, on the other hand, seemed to draw her attention. He hadn’t made any moves in her direction either, but it was as if some force compelled her to look there. He was exceedingly handsome, black hair of moderate length, broad shoulders, a trim waist, and given his clothing, especially his wristwatch, a man of considerable means. He was young though, only a few years older than her, which made her wonder if he was smart and had earned his money through super-intelligence or if it was family money.

      He looked up from his tablet, not quite smiling, and she caught her breath. His eyes were the most magnificent turquoise, as if you’d bottled the Caribbean Sea. Behind them though, the moment passing, he held faint sadness.

      Wasn’t her business what put it there, but a man as lovely as him shouldn’t be that way.

      She offered a friendly glance, one hand on her distended waistline. Her baby, now six months along, gave a forceful kick. She rubbed gently and wished she didn’t have to pee ... again. I’m afraid I have to make another apology, she said. I should never have drunk an entire bottle of water before getting on the plane.

      Struggling to her feet, she looked past him at the aisle. He stood and stepped out of the way, but try as hard as she might, she couldn’t avoid making some sort of contact. The brush was light, and he made no remark on it. However, the shock that sparked from it threw her back a few feet. Catching hold of an empty plane seat, she prevented her fall, wide-eyed, staring at him as hard as he stared at her.

      What was that? Static electricity?

      Her bladder squeezed again and the urgency of reaching the bathroom spun her around. Upon exiting afterward, the passengers appeared as before, her seatmate in place, a stewardess smiling from the front of the plane.

      The man across the aisle stood and aimed in her direction. Unlike the man in her row, however, he made no effort to give her space.

      Familiar. The image of his features jabbed at her again.

      Things focused. She’d seen him in her apartment building lobby when she left. He’d gotten up from the visitor’s chairs as if to follow her, but the doorman and a couple other residents had come between them. What was he doing here?

      She had only a second to contemplate it because the man she’d sat beside, at that instant, dusted his fingers across the back of her pursuer’s wrist, and his legs folding, his eyes rolling into his head, her pursuer crumpled to the floor.

      The passengers shrieked. Two stewardesses rushed down the aisle. Sir? Sir? one called, patting his cheeks. She glanced up at the other stewardess. He’s not breathing. Inform the captain we have an emergency.

      The girl wobbled in place unsure how to react, then spotted the man she’d sat beside gazing back at her. The same force that’d drawn her toward him before practically hurled her ahead.

      He shifted over a seat, giving her his spot on the aisle, and she heard the chaos around her:  the passengers’ speculations, the stewardess’s efforts at CPR, the captain’s announcement they were diverting to the Orlando airport. But what captured her attention were tiny golden drops pearled on the man’s upper lip.

      You’re bleeding, she said. Unthinking, she stretched out one hand and blotted the drops with her fingertips. A rush of heat washed over her frame, her pulse doubled, and high on some strange form of bliss, she drooped.

      Sir? Is your wife okay? I know the man’s death is startling ... A stewardess leaned overhead.

      Death? He’d died? The thoughts flitted through her brain, though she couldn’t respond to them.

      Maybe, when we arrive at the airport, she should be looked at, the man said.

      Of course. I’ll inform the captain. We’ll be landing in ten minutes.

      He nodded, and the stewardess hastened away.

      Wife? Why had he lied? She didn’t know him. Then again, somehow she did. She couldn’t explain that, and he didn’t reply. Instead, he tipped her chin toward him and kissed her. It was light, barely a brush, but the sticky substance on his skin pasted between them.

      Lemons. It tasted like lemons. Seconds later, she saw nothing at all, but fell fast asleep.

      The doctor, an overweight, underpaid emergency physician, who appeared to be in his forty-eighth hour on call, shifted his ice-gray gaze over the top of a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. You the father? One hand in the pocket of his lab coat, he shuffled his feet, seemingly eager to continue his rounds. And probably go home and, from the looks of him, drink a fifth of Scotch.

      Stryke hesitated, unsure of the proper response, then nodded. He was not the father, but was incredibly worried that the girl meant to be his mate was already expecting. There was, of course, no way to explain that to anyone, not the doctor and not the stewardess who’d also assumed it. Besides, if he said no outright, he’d cut himself off from the minimal information he had now. Which reminded him of why he’d not gone into emergency care. Too many instant decisions to make.

      The doctor snagged a passing nurse and jerked his chin in Stryke’s direction. See that Mister ... He paused, his mouth pressed tight.

      Dawkins, Stryke supplied, and it’s ‘Doctor’ Dawkins.

      The doctor stared at him a second longer. "See that Doctor Dawkins is kept apprised of his wife’s condition." He didn’t bother to ask anything else, but shuffled off, shouting instructions to a passing orderly.

      The nurse motioned Stryke into the adjoining examination room. She halted a fair distance from the girl and lowered her voice. Sorry about that. He’s curt on a good day. She glanced toward the bed. Since you’re a doctor yourself, I’ll spare you the patient talk.

      Stepping forward, she tugged the blue dividing curtain out further.

      We want to watch your wife for twenty-four hours to make sure everything with her pregnancy is going well. But I stress, it’s just a precaution. By the looks of things, she’s a healthy six months. In three more, you’ll have forgotten all about this.

      He made no response. In three months, he would be married if the timing of his brother’s unions were any example. But what he’d do about raising another man’s child left him at a loss.

      The nurse shuffled in reverse. I’ll check back. You take a seat.

      She was gone in a breath, and he faced the girl, his heart thudding. He crossed the room and sank into the bedside chair, the seat

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