Silent Lucidity

by Tiffany Roberts

  There was suspicion on his face now, and the change was so drastic that it jarred Abella’s thoughts.

  “Twenty thousand. Half to start, half when done. It does not put me at ease that you’ve given me at least twice that now.” Alk dropped the chip back onto his open palm and closed his fingers around the credits, stepping backward. His gaze flicked to Tenthil. “Trust is a thing earned. I have not earned your trust. I’ve done nothing to warrant this”—he shook his fist—“so why?”

  “Because I believe your word,” Abella said. “And…you’re kind of our last hope here.”

  “You have your reputation for a reason,” Tenthil added.

  “You’ve a reputation of your own,” said Alk, “and it doesn’t leave me inclined to take you at your word.”

  Tenthil released a frustrated breath. “If I had been contracted—”

  Abella turned to Tenthil and placed a hand on his arm. When he snapped his mouth shut and met her eyes, she shook her head. She waited until he eased before looking back at Alkorin.

  “You said you didn’t want the details of the trouble we’re in, and I understand that,” she said, “so I’ll review the basics. There are very dangerous people out to kill us. Getting off this planet is our only chance to live. And we cannot do that without IDs. Coming to you was already a massive risk to us. We just want you to know that we are serious. You are the only one who can help us.” She glanced at his closed hand. “Maybe use the extra for the next human who comes needing help. I know I can’t be the only one who was taken.”

  Alk’s gaze remained fixated on Abella, so intense that she could almost feel it piercing her. Before she was kidnapped, she would’ve found his appearance unsettling—aliens had been living on Earth since a few years before she was born, but she’d never dealt with any who had such inhuman features until she was brought to Arthos. She would never have imagined herself talking to someone like him in this manner.

  Hell, she’d never imagined herself leaving Earth.

  Suspicion lingered in his eyes, but there was something else there, something deeper—desire.

  Alk’s third eye shifted toward Tenthil, followed by the other two a moment later. “You won’t reconsider my prior offer?”

  Tenthil stepped forward, his stride slow and measured and yet somehow fluid. He stopped directly in front of Alk and angled his chin down, holding the forger’s gaze. “Ask again.” Despite his outward stillness, the air around him was thick with cold, seething fury; Abella could feel him bristling.

  Abella moved to Tenthil’s side and slipped an arm around him.

  “Tenthil is my mate,” she said firmly.

  Alkorin lifted his hands—one still closed around the credit chips—and bowed his head. He backed away a few steps before he turned and straightened, dipping his hand into his pocket. The chips clinked as he released them.

  “I will need full body scans to begin compiling profiles,” Alk said as he walked toward the far end of the room. He climbed the low stairs leading to the raised work area and gestured toward a circular platform on the floor against the right wall; the platform had a single step leading up to it, and most of its surface glowed white.

  “One at a time, please.” He turned toward Abella and Tenthil, though his attention was focused on one of the holographic screens for several seconds before he looked up. “Your clothing, of course, will need to come off. To ensure the most accurate scans possible.”

  Abella sensed Tenthil’s intention to charge. She threw her other arm around him, locking her hands together, and braced her legs wide, planting her heels in the carpet before he managed a full step. Heat poured off his body, radiating through his clothing. His muscles tensed and trembled; she wasn’t sure if it was because of his fury, his restraint, or a combination of both.

  “Tenthil,” Abella said.

  He didn’t look at her.

  “Tenthil.”

  With fangs bared, Tenthil finally turned his face toward her. His eyes were fully black.

  Abella reached up and cupped his cheeks with both hands. “You need to calm down. We need to do this so we can get those IDs, so you have to try to tone back your instincts…or leave.”

  His nostrils flared, and he shook his head. She knew what he was saying no to—leaving. She didn’t want him to go, either.

  “Then let’s get this done so we can go somewhere private and I can get naked for you, okay?”

  He remained tense, his inner conflict plain in his furrowed brow and lingering scowl.

  “Contrary to earlier appearances, I do have other things to do,” Alk called.

  Abella brushed her thumbs over Tenthil’s cheeks and searched his eyes. “We can get through this.”

  When Tenthil finally nodded, a wave of relief swept through Abella. She dropped her hands to her sides, walked to the platform, and mounted the steps, stopping when she stood before the scanner.

  “So, I just…take my clothes off and step on?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “Yes.” Alk offered her a smile. “But you can feel free to take your time.”

  Abella rolled her eyes and shook her head. She had to give the alien credit. He was charming, attractive, and persistent, but he wasn’t Tenthil.

  She inhaled deeply and reached for the hem of her shirt, but apprehension halted her hands. How many times had she been forced to strip by Cullion before being punished? How many times had she been bathed and dressed by the servants attending her? She’d never had a choice on any of those occasions, and it felt like she didn’t have one now. This was a completely different situation, a totally new set of circumstances, but part of her felt the same way she had with Cullion—small, powerless, subhuman.

  Abella turned her head and sought Tenthil. He’d mounted the platform as well, though he hadn’t followed her to the scanner. His posture expressed his continuing agitation, but at least his scowl had softened to a displeased frown. He held her gaze for a moment before walking to Alkorin. Tenthil stopped immediately in front of the forger, who looked up from his screen and recoiled slightly.

  With surprising calm, Tenthil shifted his body to block Alkorin from Abella’s view—meaning he was blocking her from Alk’s view, as well.

  Her heart nearly burst with affection and appreciation.

  “I need to see when she’s on—” Alkorin began.

  “She’ll tell you when,” Tenthil said.

  Abella smiled and stripped quickly, piling her belt and clothing atop her boots beside the scanner. She shivered as she dropped her attention to the scanner’s white glow and stepped onto it.

  “I’m ready,” she called, keeping her arms at her sides despite the urge to cross them over her breasts. She felt too vulnerable like this.

  “All right,” Alk said.

  The platform beneath Abella hummed gently. White light rose from the scanner’s base, encasing her in its glow and obscuring the rest of the room from her view. Despite the intensity of the illumination, it oddly didn’t hurt her eyes—but the strangest part of the experience was that she didn’t feel anything even though she was cocooned in white.

  “I’ll see her on the screen once the scan is complete, you realize,” Alkorin said.

  “Fine. But you will never look upon her directly, or you’ll have to find three new cybernetic optics,” Tenthil replied.

  “Why do you need nude scans of my whole body, anyway?” Abella asked.

  “It’s Consortium procedure,” said Alkorin. “They are quite detailed in their documentation of everyone who receives an ID chip. I have to make sure the profile I build for you contains all the pertinent information so as not to rouse suspicions when you attempt to use it.”

  Despite being shielded by the light, Abella still fought the desire to cover herself. “Guess they don’t care much about privacy here, do they?”

  Alkorin scoffed. “This is a city of billions. Hundreds of thousands die here every day, and not always peacefully. These scans are used for identification both
before and after death, and the Consortium mandates fresh scans every ten cycles. Doesn’t do them much good if all they know about your body is that you were wearing black leather on your last scan—especially if all that’s left of you is a forearm or an ankle. Just to keep everything running smoothly for the Eternal Guard, they need to keep their identification database updated. That means right down to your bones, organs, blood…your genetic makeup.”

  The white light intensified, growing so bright she was forced to squeeze her eyes shut against it. For the first time since beginning, she felt the light, felt it on her skin, felt it inside her.

  Just as quickly as it had come, the sensation vanished.

  Abella opened her eyes, blinking away the dark spots drifting across her vision. Tenthil remained in place, blocking her from Alkorin.

  “Done,” Alk said. “And let me say—”

  “Nothing,” growled Tenthil. “Get dressed, Abella.”

  Cheeks flaming, Abella stepped down from the platform, turned away from Tenthil and Alkorin, and hurriedly dressed.

  “Done,” she said as she pulled her hair out from beneath the collar of her shirt.

  Abella turned toward the males to find Tenthil approaching her, the muscles of his jaw ticking as he moved. She stepped aside to allow him access to the scanner. He paused in front of her and extended an arm, brushing his palm over her cheek and slipping his fingers into her hair, guiding it back behind her ear. Only thin rings of silver surrounded his dilated pupils, and the fire gleaming in his eyes was undeniable. He didn’t speak a single word, but he didn’t need to; his feelings were evident.

  Abella covered his hand with her own. “Yes, I am yours. Now hurry up so I can show you how much I mean it when we get back.”

  For the first time since they’d returned to Alkorin’s place, a faint smile touched Tenthil’s lips. He lowered his hand and set about removing his clothing without hesitation. If he had any inhibitions, he made no indication of them. Abella stepped back to watch, letting her eyes roam up and down his body as more and more of it was revealed; for that little while, she forgot where they were and what they were doing. All she could focus on was the breadth of his shoulders, his sculpted ridges of muscle, and the length of his stiffening cock.

  She squeezed her thighs together, but it did nothing to alleviate the sudden, heated ache between her legs.

  Tenthils nostrils flared, and one corner of his mouth lifted higher, giving her a brief glimpse of his fangs. “After,” he rasped before turning and stepping onto the scanner platform.

  After, indeed.

  How could she wait? She was addicted to his touch, his kisses, his taste. She wanted all of him, all the time.

  Alk cleared his throat. “The two of you will save any such activities for after you’ve left my place of business. Unless…you’d be open to another partner, little human.”

  “Not gonna happen, Alkorin,” Abella singsonged as she glanced at him. “Focus on the scan.”

  “Things are better in threes.” His third eye closed briefly.

  Was that the sedhi version of a sly wink?

  Tenthil growled and spun around as though he were about to leap off the scanner. Eyes suddenly wide, Alk hurriedly manipulated the controls. The white light rose up to envelop Tenthil, leaving only a vague, shadowy outline of him. Somehow, even his indistinct shadow looked furious.

  Abella laughed and shook her head. “I think you’ll just have to find yourself your own human, Alk. This one is taken.”

  Alkorin lifted a hand to his face, brushed his metal fingertips across his chin, and hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps I will.”

  Though Abella’s laughter faded, her spirits didn’t fall. Perhaps she should’ve been upset by Alk’s constant flirtation—much of which had been anything but subtle—but she couldn’t bring herself to be. She and Tenthil were almost there, and Alkorin was instrumental in them having a life together. The forger’s attitude struck her as little more than posturing. He knew just as well as she did—she was Tenthil’s, and nothing he could say or do would change that.

  She stood by her initial judgment of Alkorin—he was a decent person at heart, even if he’d done some bad things.

  “Done,” Alk said.

  The light from the scanner receded into the base, and Tenthil stepped off it, any sign of humor or calm he’d previously displayed having been replaced by fresh rage.

  “Hurry and dress,” Alkorin said. “You two have that look in your eyes, and I’ll not tolerate you mating here. I’ve only just had the couches cleaned, and I’d rather not soil them beyond the damage you’ve already done unless I have the pleasure of being involved in the festivities. Be gone.”

  Tenthil made no move for his clothing; all his attention remained on Alkorin. “The chips.”

  “Take time. With the amount of fabrication I’ll have to do, it should be about four days. Come back then.”

  “Fabrication?” Abella asked. “Aren’t the chips just tiny little implants?”

  “Not physical fabrication,” Alk replied, leaning a hand on the control panel as he turned to face her. “I have to build histories for both of you that will fool the system, including likely places your chips might have been scanned without your knowledge and detailed medical records. I have to code his genetic profile in such a way that it doesn’t trigger any alarms as a previously unregistered species. Then I have to take all that information and sneak it into the system—into two systems, so you’ll have emigration data from your home planet that won’t rouse suspicion. It’s delicate work, but it’s necessary if you want this to succeed.”

  Abella nodded. “We’ll be back in four days then.”

  Tenthil grunted and bent to gather his clothes, tugging them on piece by piece. He picked up his belt last of all and glared at Alkorin while he drew it around his hips and buckled it into place.

  Abella covered her mouth to hide her widening grin.

  After a few more seconds of pointed glaring, Tenthil put his arm around Abella’s shoulder and guided her toward the steps.

  “Can’t wait to see you again, either, zenturi,” Alk called with a laugh.

  Tenthil forced himself to take deep breaths as the door closed behind him. The air in the alleyway was cooler than that within the forger’s building, but it did little to reduce the inferno blazing inside him. Alkorin had made repeated blatant advances toward Abella despite knowing she was Tenthil’s mate.

  It had nearly been enough to drive Tenthil to violence. After his first encounter with the sedhi forger, he’d thought Alkorin had been attempting to assert dominance in a primal, unsubtle fashion. Tenthil had wondered if the sedhi was motivated by instincts similar to his own. But this…

  This had been, at best, insulting. Abella’s trust in Alkorin was the only thing that had spared the sedhi significant pain.

  He clenched his jaw, tightened his hold on Abella slightly, and walked toward the alley’s exit at a deliberately slow pace. That he was so easily provoked by Alkorin only increased Tenthil’s anger. He was capable of far more discipline, far more control, than he’d exhibited as of late.

  Control and discipline will only serve me now when they can keep Abella safe.

  “Tenthil.”

  Abella’s voice broke through his tumultuous thoughts. He stopped and turned his head just as she placed her hand on the back of his neck, drawing him down to press her lips to his. Tenthil’s brows shot up in surprise, but quickly fell as his eyelids drifted shut.

  She kissed him hard, teasing his mouth open with her tongue. He tugged her body against his as her tongue slipped into his mouth to slide along his fangs. A shudder swept through, and more of that sweet mating venom flowed into his mouth. When she deepened the kiss, Tenthil lost all sense of awareness, lost hold of his fury.

  There was only Abella—his mate, his everything—and her delicious taste.

  After one last nip on his lower lip, Abella broke the kiss and drew her head back. Her eyes met his. “I l
ove you.”

  She’d spoken quickly, breathlessly, but her words were no less impactful than if she’d shouted them—they pierced his chest, and a new heat spread outward from his heart, so far removed from the fires of his anger that its existence seemed impossible.

  Abella slid her hand into his hair and clutched the strands between her fingers, producing a tantalizing sting on his scalp.

  “It’s probably crazy—I’m probably crazy,” she said, “but I know what I feel, and what I feel for you is real. And I wanted you to know just in case…in case anything…”

  Tenthil cupped her face between his hands and covered her lips with his thumbs, silencing her. He shook his head; he would not allow anything to happen. Wouldn’t even entertain the possibility. His gaze moved over her features as he stroked her kiss-swollen lips.

  He had wanted Abella from the moment he’d first seen her. His want had quickly grown into a need, into an obsession, and had pushed him to do things that violated everything he’d been taught for most of his life—making him an immediate target for the Order.

  Abella was his mate. He’d do anything for her, endure any amount of pain to keep her from harm. There was nothing he cared about more than Abella.

  When she’d asked him to love her days before, he had only truly understood the request in physical terms—he felt a deep, undeniable affection toward her, but he hadn’t even known if he was capable of love.

  So much had changed in the short time since. It was only putting a name to what he already felt for her, defining his emotions with a deceptively simple term, but he understood now how important it was.

  He’d always believed that actions were more important than words, that they were all that truly mattered, but he knew different now. Words could be a sort of action of their own, and sometimes…

  Sometimes, some things needed to be said aloud.

  “Love you, too,” he rasped.

  Her lips light brushed his thumbs as they spread into a wide smile, revealing her flat, white teeth. “Really? You do? Like, not just in an instinctual—”