1942664419 (S) Read Online Free PDF Page B

good shots with that thing. I’d been happy as heck with it.
    Until now.
    The Nikon’s ten frames per second fired off in rhythmic abandon. Nothing like seeing four-thousand dollars worth of hardware in action to make a photography junkie drool.
    My gaze trailed back to my father. The Army’s no-nonsense Major Martinez didn’t appear to be in attendance. Just Dad. If his eyes could have shouted I’m sorry , they sure would have. My gut twisted. He probably thought I’d purposely looked away from him while I drooled over that guy’s camera. So not true. I wouldn’t correct him, though. Let him simmer on what happened this morning a little more.
    I looked down and fiddled with my thumbs. I wanted things to be great with Dad again. Maybe now more than ever. We couldn’t do that until we’d both dealt with Mom’s death. Not like I was completely healed, but at least I was ready to try to move on. Dad was in a holding pattern, despite the leaps he’d made in the right direction. We couldn’t be a family again until he finally came to grips that there were only two of us now.
    The photographer took a knee, facing the far doorway. I gaped and nearly let a childish giggle escape my lips when I saw his face. Steven Callup: one of the most celebrated photographers of the last few years. He was also the dude who’d taken the shots of Dad and me that had ended up on the covers of National Geographic and TIME Magazine .
    How freaking awesome was that?
    I gulped, trying to muster up the courage to say hello when two MPs escorted a tall man who looked a lot like the guy from that lightning movie—the water god. Umm, Poseidon—except this guy’s dark brown hair hung to his shoulders. I cocked my head and looked more closely. No, this dude didn’t only look like him. He actually was him. I guess that explained Steven Callup being here.
    The man stopped in the center of the room. His eyes fixed on me, and my blood raced. My hands quaked, and it took all my strength to keep from bolting toward the door. Scenes from another movie this actor had starred in flashed through my mind, where he’d played a not-so-nice hit man. The heebie-jeebies crawled down my spine.
    Nematali stepped forward. “Evander Odium Modaner.” She lowered her head to Poseidon-guy. “May I present Jessica Natalie Martinez.”
    Natalie? That was my mom’s name, not mine.
    Poseidon touched his forehead and closed his eyes. “Jessica Natalie, it is a pleasure.”
    I half expected the light accent I remembered in the movies, until I realized he was an Erescopian. He’d stolen a skin, just like David had done. These aliens sure had a knack for snatching up the hotties.
    I mimicked the head-touchy thing. For all I knew I was sticking up my middle finger at him, but hey, he started it. “It’s just Jess. My name, I mean. Nice to meet you, too.”
    He scanned the room, his gaze settling on each person. It creeped me out. Was he sizing everyone up, just like he’d done in that movie before he started shooting people?
    Chill out, Jess. It’s not the same guy.
    “It has come to our attention,” he began, “that there is a significant amount of distrust as well as interest in my people.”
    Dad and General Baker’s eyes flashed with a big old what did you expect look.
    “In the name of good will, and to show that we harbor no malice to your people, the Caretakers have decided to allow a single human photographer aboard one of our research vessels. This individual will be allowed to photograph and interact with my people and, of course, bring pictures back to share.”
    Wow. How cool would that be? The first human on an Erescopian ship!
    The ambassador scanned the room again. “We believe this will be beneficial to both our races at this important juncture in our relationship. So, you will understand that we were very selective in choosing the correct person for this task.”
    Steven Callup lowered his camera and took a step forward. “I’m honored.”