Page 47 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

Tech straightened and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“And this is Free,” God said. “My department’s genius. He’s the reason your neighbor’s alarm went off tonight. We’d hoped to catch the intruder, not scare him off, but Morrison made him aware of your immediate danger, and Free decided to be better safe than sorry.”

Xander blinked at him before he whispered a shaky, “Thank you so much.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you tonight,” Free said.

Xander shook his head. “No. Please don’t say that. You saved my life.” His voice cracked over the last word.

Free came forward with a small black ring box in his hand.

“I have something for you.”

Xander’s eyes widened.

Free laughed softly. “Calm down, superstar. I’m not proposing, I’m already spoken for.”

A tiny sound escaped Xander. Not quite a laugh, but close.

“This is a panic button,” Free explained, taking out the ring. “I’ve disguised it as a class ring. You went to NYU School of the Arts, and their colors are violet and white, so I used a tanzanite stone. It’s personal, stylish and expensive enough that nobody’ll question you wearing it.”

The stone caught the light, reflecting flashes of violet-blue against his skin. Set inside a masculine white gold band, it looked like a really nice class ring.

“How’d you know I graduated from there?” Xander asked.

Free shrugged. “Because I know everything.”

“That’s annoyingly true,” Ruxs grumbled.

Xander smiled a little—which was a relief to see—then slid the ring onto his right ring finger.

Xander blinked at the perfect fit. “Wow. How did you—”

Free lifted one hand. “Everything.”

“Never take it off,” God said firmly. “Not when you sleep. Not even in the shower. Only time you should remove it is if you’re filming and wardrobe requires it. The same second your director calls ‘cut’, it goes back on.”

Xander looked down at the ring. “How does it work?”

Free grinned. “Push it.”

Xander hesitated, then pressed the stone.

Seven watches buzzed at once. The sharp sound tore through the suite in one well-synched chorus.

Xander jerked his hand back as if he’d done something wrong.

Free turned his tablet toward him. On the screen was a map with a pulsing point labeled S.

“S is you. Starlight is your principal call sign,” Free explained.

Beneath it were more active readings—location, pulse, oxygen saturation—things that would baffle him if he asked how it all worked.

Xander stared at it, appearing stunned.

“When you press it, I’ll know where you are,” Free said. “Your location comes to me, and your audio opens. I can monitor your vitals too. If your panicked and your heart rate spikes over a hundred and ten beats per minute or your oxygen drops—for instance if someone puts a hand over your mouth—and you haven’t pressed it, I’ll still get an alert.”

Morrison’s voice was low with disbelief. “Holy shit.”