The next morning Venus knocked on Zaren and Dervinias’s bedroom door. “You guys, we need to talk. Right away.”
“It’s six in the morning. Give me another couple hours,” Dervinias griped.
“Be right there.” Zaren sounded like he’d been awake for hours.
“It’s important, Dervinias. Get your lazy butt out here.” Knowing Dervinias and Zaren would be reading her mind, she scanned through Michael’s memories. In less than sixty seconds both guys were seated at the tiny kitchen table barreling questions at her.
Frustrated, Venus counted backward. Three. Two. One. “This is a disaster. Who would kill his mother? Why?” Sorrow pierced her heart for Michael. “And where did his father take him? He must be so upset.” She slid down in the rickety black chair, feeling torn. Not only would Michael be devastated, maybe unable to ever love, but Venus felt sorry for herself, too. “I only have a few days left.”
Venus struggled not to cough. Stress was an understatement. Her heart pounded against her ribs with such fervor she supposed it could be seen through her white tank top. A day ago she’d considered giving up. Now she didn’t want too. But what could she do if she had no idea how to find Michael?
Dervinias had his chin in his chest. It looked like he’d fallen asleep. Not helping.
Zaren said, “At some point Michael’s mind will give us a clue.” He wore his serious face. She knew he was trying to figure out what their next move should be.
Venus focused on her fear, on the way her body cried out in pain, and in her difficulty to breathe.
“Yes, but when. What if he’s too far away? My body isn’t working properly. It’ll give out soon. I can sense my organs breaking down, turning to mush.”
Proving the point, a fit of coughing erupted. When she covered her mouth, a large amount of blood drenched her hand. A metallic taste, like liquid silver, filled her mouth. The tang upset her stomach. Reaching for a napkin from the middle of the table, Venus discreetly wiped her mouth and hand. Then she balled it up.
“Blood? How can that be? It’s too soon.” Zaren placed his warm hand over hers, gently prying the napkin away and wrapping it in another one.
She stood and rinsed her mouth out in the sink. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I keep taking off the boots. Clearly they are attached to my changing, but I think it’s more than that.” She sat down and placed her left ankle on top of her right knee. The position made seeing inside the clear heels easier. The red heart still thumped, but it’d slowed.
“Why do you say that?” Zaren asked, moving his chair closer to hers. He leaned over, glancing at the heel. As an automatic reaction, Venus moved her foot under the seat of her chair, nervous about sharing her weaknesses with anyone. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” he said, shaking his head and sitting back.
It’s Zaren. If anyone can know, it’s him. “It’s all right. I want you to look. Maybe you can tell me what the symbols mean.” She returned her heel to her knee and pulled him toward her. Their eyes met.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“No. Go ahead.”
She watched him touch the heel, turning it back and forth a little. After a few moments, he sucked in his breath. Venus wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say. Didn’t want more bad news.
“The heartbeat has slowed a lot since my birthday.” She released a sigh. “I shouldn’t have removed them. Ever. Its—”
“What?” Zaren asked, grasping her arm and caressing it with his thumb. It made the tiny hairs on her arm stand on end. The sensation almost pushed away all of her fears. Almost. But not quite.
“If I’m told not to do something, I get an overwhelming urge to do the opposite. The shaman said they wouldn’t come off. I had to see for myself. But, they came off easily.” Venus shrugged, irritated with herself.
Dervinias lifted his head. “Venus, that explains a lot about you.” He scratched a cheek. It sounded like sandpaper. The crazy alien needed a shave.
“What? That I’m rebellious. A terrible listener. An immature child who does what I want, when I want, regardless of anyone else. Cret!”
Dervinias stood. “I need a shower and . . . a shave.” He nodded at her. “Remember, Princess. You said the words, not me.” He shuffled out of the kitchen.
Venus sat there in silence.
Zaren eyed her. “I’ve been worried about you taking off the boots. Beginning with that day in the clothing store.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “But, I dismissed my misgivings because I figured it was another quirk that came with your being exiled to Earth.” He brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. “I’ve been a terrible guardian. I’m so sorry.”
A slight wheezing escaped when she exhaled. “Don’t say that. I’d be lost without you.” She crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest.
His arms encircled her. “Are you going to sulk again?” he asked, tenderly.
She held him tighter and he reciprocated. Into his shirt, she said, “No. But I’m dying. I’ll be gone and you’ll go on living. Forever. Without me.” A sob caught in her throat. Tears formed and spilled onto her cheeks. She let them fall, his shirt catching most of them.
Zaren pressed her closer. “I know you’re dying, which is beyond frustrating. But, don’t give up. Keep fighting until your last breath. And maybe, just maybe you won’t die. You’ll live! And we can get you home. Figure out who did this to you.”
She sniffled. “If I die, what will you do?”
He shook her a little. “You aren’t going to die. I won’t let that happen.”
“But, I—”
“I’m yours for as long as you need me.”
She sniffled again, snuggled deeper into his chest, enjoying the lemons and honey.
Very few kelarians ever died. If one did, it was usually a young kelki or a kelni within the first two years of life. Their race born at their weakest. The future rested in the hands of the young, yet the young were the most fragile. All of life worked that way, she knew, but she didn’t have to like or understand it.
Venus hadn’t enjoyed her kelphi years. Since the age of twelve, when her mom and dad had explained what it meant to change, she’d dreamed of her sixteenth birthday—receiving her boots. Venus considered the Kelvieri’s Boots and taking her journey the most important moments in her life. Everything after becoming kelvieri would be like a delicious dessert.
She knew there were those who fought against taking the journey. They didn’t believe all kels should become immortal. Those were the Dissenters. Their propaganda constantly talked of finding a new ruler, one who’d accept their kind in their mortality.
Venus knew it was about power more than mortality. If only a few received immortality, it’d be easier to rule them, subject them to their beliefs.
The Dissenters wanted to change everything Venus desired, everything she’d waited her whole life to become. They’d caused her mom and dad, the Queen and King of Alayeah, a lot of trouble, as well as the other countries.
Not that any of that mattered, if she didn’t return, and soon.
Zaren pushed her back and stared intently into her eyes. “It all matters. And I believe those Dissenters probably have something to do with why you’re here.”
“You think? Why?”
“It’s been foretold that a female kelvieri warrior would return peace to Kelari. I believe that warrior is you.” He brushed the hair that’d stuck to her wet face off, and moved it behind her ear.
“Me? But that . . .” In truth, it would explain why she’d been accused of blasphemy.
“This is why you can’t give up. There’s always a way. We haven’t found it yet, but we will. I promise you.”
Venus nodded. “I’ll fight, but I have to know where to begin. We have no idea where Michael is.”
He winked. “Perhaps you know someone who does.” He waited for her to understand what he meant.
“Cheverly
.”
“That’s right. Why don’t you call her?” He smiled. Huge. Breathtaking. And full of love.
She chewed on her lower lip. Her mother would be so disappointed if she knew Venus had started in on her bad habit again. She didn’t stop, but concentrated, stretching her mind over Cheverly’s. What she saw confused her. “Holy cret! I think you’re right. I’ll call her.”
“Good idea.”
She hugged him again. She’d meant for it to be quick, but he felt so good, she lingered. He held her, too. His hands rubbed her back and found their way into her hair. Tingles of longing prickled her skin, and her heart. She wanted to kiss him. When she pulled back, she saw the desire reciprocated on his face. My Zaren. She leaned in . . .
He cleared his throat.
Disappointed, she hopped off his lap, grabbed the phone, and ran into her bedroom.
Chapter 37
Right Here Waiting
Exiled Page 37
