First Contact; Sparks Fly
993 Words
The rain came down on the windows of a sleek lobby as Damon and I made our dramatic entrance into the world of CrossTech. Every shiny surface reflected my tension. I squeezed my clutch bag exceedingly tightly; my heart was pounding. Everything was reset by the news Zachary gave about my sister. Twisted domestic siege, camouflaged as corporate espionage.
With clenched jaw, Damon's arm brushed mine as we snaked through sideways glances.
"Stay close," he murmured, his voice taut. I nodded.
Between cameras, badges, and guards, we approached security. Damon flashed his ID; I gave mine. Easy on any other day, but today, the guarded electricity of our closeness strangled us.
The head of security nodded and whispered, "We locked down the floor. She is in the seventh-level office."
I swallowed my breath. My sister. I had heard nothing of her for years, not since our separate rebellions in college had thrown us under different stars. To see her now, with Zachary, felt like a betrayal sharper than any contract or scandal.
Damon took me through the secured elevator, his hand brushing mine as he touched the panel. The moment was technically accidental, just an overlap as he tapped the button, but it stopped my pulse. Electric sparks skipped between us.
I stole a sideways glance at him. There it was: not just concern, but something deeper—something fragile and burning away inside me that I still had no name for.
He cleared his throat. "We need to handle this carefully. I can't have a hostage situation here, not one tied to her."
My chest tightened. The whole sobering thought of fear and anger erupting at two siblings working for Zachary pulsed with the strange feeling of guilt that reminded me of her old guilt, whenever it would come rusting on bones.
"Let me talk to her," I whispered.
His gaze softened. "You want that?"
I nodded. For it was that accidental touch that awoke ingrained feelings which I could no longer deny.
Upon entering, we were at the seventh floor: offices dark, chairs overturned, faint alarm hum. Security guards stood in clusters about a glass-walled meeting room. Through the tinted glass, I saw her-one with shoulder-length dark hair, a profile so much like mine but angrier, more hardened.
Zachary stood beside her.
I dropped into the hallway, heart thundering. Damon came to stand behind me, silently supportive.
I closed my eyes and stepped inside, the guards holding back.
She looked up, startled, then furious.
"Sierra," she spat.
I forced myself to smile. “Seraphina,” I told her softly. “Why are you here?”
Her gaze briefly flicked to Zachary. “He said you’d betrayed us all.”
I clenched my fists. “No. I didn’t. Not ever.”
Zachary snickered. “She did more.”
Her face turned ugly. “You left us for this… life. You chose him."
My whole sisterly instinct wanted to care, but resentment overtook it. I took a breath.
"I never chose sides. I chose safety. A future."
She took another step toward me. "You chose him."
That was enough. I closed the gap, pulled her into a tight hug, and everything went to shambles.
Her body froze and then came gently crashing down into me: tears, though colder than I'd thought.
I held her sister to sister while security moved behind me. Damon touched my shoulder; careful, reverent.
That accidental brush earlier was now intentional as I parted from my sister's shoulder and brushed Damon’s hand. Sparks again but calmer, steadier.
As the guards marched them out, my sister stopped by me.
"Don't forget me," she whispered.
Closing my eyes, I said, "I won't."
Damon and I stood in the hallway outside the glass, rain pouring and bouncing off the walls making it difficult to hear anything but the rain. Silence could have been ceremonious or easy and unbroken, but the accidental touches that had resulted in the moment it did had meaning; tenderness, ownership, fellowship, a promise.
He ambled closer and brushed his fingers lightly across my back as we exited from the conference room.
Once we reached the lobby, the rain had slowed, turning it into a mist. Damon paused next to the central fountain.
He brushed droplets from my cheek. His touch lingered longer than was strictly necessary. I swallowed.
"You did good," he said lowly. "But... just the beginning."
I nodded, my mouth dry. I prepared for our exit.
His hand reached for my hand. It's not accidental anymore, it's intentional. Warm and firm.
I squeezed back.
He looked down at our hands, back at me, his eyes lamenting the emotional burden..
"This isn't all about business deals," he murmured. "This is about us. And I..."
A screeching alarm interrupted his sentence. The doors to the lobby slammed closed.
We both flinched.
Security sprinted toward us. The front desk yelled, "Alpha breach red alert," through the noise.
Damon started pulling me back toward the stairwell.
"Someone set another device," he whispered. "We don't know where and we don't know what."
My chest froze.
He pressed my hand to his chest.
"Stay close," he said.
I nodded, trusting him completely as accident turned to awareness that became a conscious choice.
We barreled down the stairwell, lights flickering briefly above us.
When we reached the bottom floor, a single, silent bell struck a long, slow toll, echoing against the wet ceiling of the lobby.
That single ring froze the blood in my veins.
The storm wasn't outside anymore.
It was inside.
As we emerged into the lobby, we froze.
Taped to the fountain was one piece of paper.
Holding his breath, Damon reached out and flipped it over.
On the page:
"We've been waiting. Now that you're all here welcome to the countdown."
He looked at me. His eyes were my most grave.
"I know who wrote that."
I swallowed.
"Who?"
He whispered, nightmare played vividly on his face:
"My brother."
- Writer
