"I could send multiple reports to the labor board. Make it appear they're from clients concerned about the safety of residents. Stalkos might think they're from you, but the evidence will point elsewhere. Separate investigations would last weeks. That will give you time to work and provide a measure of safety for the young man. Any injury during that time will be cause for revocation of license. With that, perhaps Stalkos can be shut down permanently. I doubt Mr. Antonello is the only resident under threat."
"Excellent." Luc set a fist over his heart. "I'm in your debt. Make it happen."
The floating idBot symbol of an eye spun in the air and winked out.
Luc tapped his link to James. "Start bringing him back."
He gathered his belongings. When he opened the door, his son stood there, dark blue cloak over one arm. If it weren't for the sound-proofed office, he'd have worried about being overheard.
"Hello, Senthys." He gestured to the cloak. "How's the arm?"
The lad bristled. "Fine, no thanks to you." He rubbed the inner elbow.
Since puberty, Luc had drugged him, and the injection left bruises. "It's for your own protection. If you went feral--"
"Yeah, yeah," his son snapped. "Tell me something I don't know."
Luc pinched the bridge of his nose. That battle was not worth rehashing. "I'm heading out." He stepped around his son and shut the office door. "I didn't expect you."
In the hall, an elderly arcane level thief in the traditional black robe of an instructor stopped and with much difficulty, leaned on a cane as he bowed to Luc.
Luc returned the courtesy and waited while his son called the instructor by name and made a deeper bow.
"Excellent student, your son." The thief smiled at Senthys and turned his cloudy-eyed gaze toward Luc. "Never expected a non-human to be so bright."
Senthys shot a cross-eyed glance Luc's way.
Luc coughed to suppress a smile. "Thank you."
The man laid a gnarled hand on his son's shoulder and patted it. "Reminds me of you at that age." He hobbled away.
Senthys turned and watched the old man a moment before falling in step beside Luc. "You know what's most annoying? He doesn't even realize he's being insulting."
"You mean that you remind him of me?"
His son opened his mouth, caught Luc's smile, and closed it. "Yeah, sure. That's it." He shifted the cloak and set a hand on the stair railing as he descended beside Luc. "I've got that meeting with Khyffen today. I was hoping you'd come."
"Unless it's now, I doubt I can fit it in."
"Two hours. Coffee shop across the street."
"Sorry." Luc stopped next to the exit. "By noon I'll be on my way back to Tarth."
"Right." Senthys tossed the cloak over a shoulder. "Maybe next time."
"I'd appreciate that. He's your family, and that makes him mine. I'm sorry, Senthys. I would have arranged things differently if I'd known. Soon. I promise. I'll make time for it."
Chapter Six
Kelthia, Miraj City, Central City District
Miraj City Bakery Café
Standing in the shadows at the rear of the coffee shop, Luc remained silent. Hidden within his cloak, he waited to see how Khyffen would play this.
The young man had stepped inside, glanced around, and chosen a table near the door, his back to the wall. At this hour, the stampeding lunch crowd from the Guild had yet to invade.
Luc skirted the edge of the room, taking care where he put his feet. He knew all the squeaks. After all, in a previous lifetime, he'd helped build this café. What was his name back then? The immortal had lived too many lives, had too many names. He could no longer recall most of them. What mattered now was checking out this young man who had a kinship to the sole mortal Luc claimed as family. Preventing others from discovering Luc's secret life meant diligence. Family ratcheted up the risks.
It wouldn't do to let anyone close who had ulterior motives.
He eased past Khyffen, taking care not to move the air and cause a breeze where none should exist. Now that Luc was close, the shoddy workmanship of the man's boots showed, and the ragged cuffs and collar of his shirt. The monogram on the sleeve did not match Khyffen's initials. Secondhand, no doubt. The leather coat was the lone quality piece. His blond hair needed trimming, and he looked a bit on the lean side for his height. Luc judged him to be about six feet, tradestandard, some five inches shorter than himself. A good bit taller than Senthys, though his son was not done growing. Kin didn't hit their final growth spurt till their early twenties. Senthys would be at least as tall as Luc. Possibly taller.
There was a hungry look about Khyffen. As if he didn't eat enough. Didn't sleep enough. Didn't laugh enough.
A commotion gave Luc the opportunity he needed. As a group of rowdy thieves from the Guild entered, Luc stepped behind them and swept off the cloak. He hung it over his arm and pretended to enter as they did.
He approached Khyffen's table and sat without invitation. "Hello, Khyffen." He tossed the cloak over a chair.
Alarm showed in Khyffen's eyes, but he quelled it, and sat back. "You're the Man, I take it."
"No one calls me that to my face." Luc tousled his curls, rearranging the area the hood had flattened. "But yes. That is who I am." He motioned for the waiter-droid. "Khyffen, do you drink coffee? You didn't touch it in the car."
The man was stiff as a dead stick already, but he sat even straighter after that. "I was right. I was being watched."
"I let no one near my son without knowing more about them."
"Look, I don't want anything from you. I need to see if he's my brother."
"He is. Your DNA and his show you have the same mother."
Khyffen flinched. "What? When did you--"
"In a moment." Luc smiled at the approaching droid. "My usual. Bring my young friend one of your Big Beef Sandwiches. He's hungry. Better add a serving of those fried potatoes, and a glass of milk. I'll take a piece of silk pie if you have it."
"Yes, sir. The pie's fresh. Right away, sir." The droid rolled away.
"Now." Luc folded his hands. "I believe you were about to express irritation that I had your DNA tested without your permission."
"I--"
"You were in prison, Khyffen. In the Tarthian Empire, that makes your DNA a matter of public record. I had my son tested before I adopted him. I assume you were aware I adopted Senthys."
Khyffen's brows knotted together. "I heard."
"Tell me what you want."
The young man had been breathing fast, but now his respiration slowed.
Luc waited to see what he would do.
Bracing his hands on the table edge, Khyffen leaned forward. "I just want to meet my brother."
"Do you now?" Luc steepled his fingers.
"Yes."
"And that is all you want."
Khyffen dragged in a big breath. Let it all out. "Yes."
"I'm curious then, about what you plan to do with that knife in your right boot."
The color drained from Khyffen's face. "What knife?"
Luc sputtered a laugh. "Don't ever play poker. James is an android. He scanned you and reported the weapon." At the look of terror on Khyffen's face, he added, "To me, not the police."
"Are you going to report me?"
"Not if you surrender it. The penalties for carrying a weapon while on probation are severe. If I reported you, you'd miss your scheduled meeting with your brother at noon."
"Then"-- the young man hesitated --"you're going to let me meet him?"
"Without a knife in your boot, yes." Luc moved his hands as the droid returned with coffee and milk. "Thank you."
"Food will be right out." The droid bowed away.
Khyffen pushed away the milk. "Thanks, but I'm not hungry."
"You should eat. Then you won't be hungry when you meet Senthys at noon."
"I'm not hungry. I-- I wasn't sure you'd let me see him."
"Why wouldn't I? You're his family. I looked for you when I
learned Senthys had a half-brother. You would have been about six at the time. I lacked sufficient information. I couldn't find you. I pulled your record, Khyffen. I'm sorry for what you've been through. It would have spared you a great deal of pain if I could have adopted you." He sipped the coffee.
Khyffen's eyes were a distinct blue. They went so wide the whites showed all the way around them. "You-- You could have-- What?"
"If I could have adopted you. Family should be kept together." Luc brought the coffee to his lips but set it back down without tasting it. "I realize you don't trust me. I understand that far better than you think. I came to meet you because I wanted to see my son's brother before he did. You have no reason to believe or trust me. I realize that. But I will prove to you that you can. I'll do everything in my power to free you. But first, I want you to prove yourself worthy of my trust. Start by giving me the knife. In private, of course."
He shook his head.
Luc moved aside the coffee. "Whether you give the weapon to me or to the police, you will not leave here with it on your person. It's your choice."
"You don't understand. Because of him, I'm a slave." Khyffen smacked a fist against his chest. "When he was born, the Kin took him from Mother and sent him to be killed. She abandoned me to save him. They put me in hell because of him."
"And you blame him for her suicide."
Khyffen blinked. "Her-- Her what?" A look of unbelief darkened his eyes. "No. No, she's not dead."
"You didn't know. Oh, Khyffen." Luc scooted back his chair. "I'm so sorry. I thought-- Son, minutes after she placed you in day care at the starport, she walked in front of the port's tube train. She died instantly. No one realized she had a child or even what her name was until recently. I believe she assumed her newborn had been killed, and leaving you in daycare was the only way to ensure you were safe."
"She's-- My mother--" His shoulders sagged. "Mother's dead? All this time, I thought... I thought she'd come for me."
"Son." Luc bit his lips. The young man's pain was plain as smoke in the air. "Son, I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I thought you knew."
"No. I don't believe you." Khyffen looked around him as if seeking answers. "That can't be. Mother isn't dead. She'll come for me. She'll--" A whimper left him.
The droid brought plates of food and began setting them out. "Will there be anything else?"
"No." Luc stood, nudging the droid aside. "We'll want all this later. Take care of it. I'll be using the private room." He went to Khyffen's side. "I won't touch you without permission, Son. Come with me."
Chapter Seven
Miraj City Bakery Café
Senth covered his mouth, speechless as his father led Khyffen into the private dining area. Wearing his activated cloak, Senth had followed Saint-Cyr out of the Guild and across the street into the café. After that, he'd lost him. Senth had taken a position near the door and remained stock still, waiting to see what transpired.
When Khyffen entered, though the man was two hours early, Senth knew at once he was his brother. Something about his scent said home.
It was all he could do not to uncloak and go to him.
Khyffen had a tragic look to him, as if he were empty inside, alone and frightened. He was trying to hide it, but Senth was a HalfKin.
He might not smell emotion with the same clarity that full-blooded Kin could, but some emotions were too close to the surface to hide.
He waited to see if his father was in the room, and if so, what he would do.
The packet his father had given him had information on not only his mother, but also Khyffen. While Senth was growing up in a household where he'd been pushed to excel, Khyffen had been a child slave in crystal mines and on jump ports, forced to work inside arid tubes so small even a child couldn't stand up, until they sold him into the worst kind of slavery.
He'd ended up in prison because he defended himself against a slave master's brutality.
Yes, Senth had been a slave, but only to give him opportunity. That was how the Guild worked. You paid your dues and you got your points.
Khyffen had gotten misery and abuse.
Senth had been about to go to his brother when others from the Guild arrived, and right in their midst, who should uncloak but his father?
Senth waited, watched, and listened. Was Saint-Cyr going to try to send Khyffen away or deter him from their meeting? Buy him off? What if Saint-Cyr had discovered that Khyffen wanted money?
Far from it. Senth watched in stunned silence as Khyffen revealed he blamed Senth for his being a slave, and Senth's father revealed he had a heart.
Now Senth stood before the closed private room. Should he barge in? Knock first? Wait?
Forget that. There was no better time than now.
He tore off the cloak, opened the door, and entered.
Khyffen had a knife in his hands.
"No!" Senth put himself between Khyffen and his father. "I'm the one to blame, not my father."
"Senthys!" Saint-Cyr pulled him aside. "What in the worlds are you doing?"
"He has a knife!"
"Yes, and you jumped in front of me. You could have gotten yourself killed!"
"I-- He--" Torn between protecting his father and worried about Khyffen, Senth turned from one to the other.
His brother was staring at him, the knife hanging in his hands, seemingly forgotten.
His father stood with hands on his hips. "Your brother was giving me the knife." Saint-Cyr took the weapon and tucked it inside his jacket. "You never saw this, Senthys." He snapped his fingers. "Senthys!"
"Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir. I didn't." He turned to Khyffen, who was still staring. "Hi. I'm Senth. We were supposed to meet later, but... Anyway, hi." He stuck out his hand.
"Wow." Khyffen accepted it and gave a brief shake. His gaze went from Senth's hair, to his mouth, up to his eyes, and back again. "You look... You don't look Kin. Except for the eyes."
"Yay, lucky me. I got mostly human traits." Senth bared his fangs. "'Cept for my chompers and eyes. But don't try to best me in a fight. I'm strong as a full-blood."
Khyffen glanced at Saint-Cyr, who gave him a look that said, Told you. Khyffen focused back on Senth. "You look like her. You have cat's eyes, but they're the same color. You have Mother's wild curls. And she hated that everyone thought she was a kid. You don't--uh, what I mean is, you look exactly like her."
"Yeah?" Senth rocked on the balls of his feet. "I look like my mom? Dad!" He shared a grin with his father. "I look like my mom!" He told Khyffen, "There were no pictures of her."
"You're not who I thought you were."
"Huh?"
"The guy I thought you were wouldn't have tried to save a human. You jumped right in front of him, and he's not even your family."
Saint-Cyr drew himself up. "Excuse me?"
"Dad, I got this." Senth put out an arm to keep his father from stepping into the discussion. "You're wrong there, Khyffen. Luc Saint-Cyr is my father. He's as much my family as you are."
The Man crossed his arms and stayed out of the way, but a faint scent from Saint-Cyr reached Senth. Leaves in autumn mixed with a hint of leather.
Senth recognized it for the emotion-scent it was, family love and pride.
"Look, Senth, when I heard you were alive... I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault. You couldn't help being born. I--" Khyffen staggered.
Senth took Khyffen's arm and guided him to a chair.
"Sorry." Khyffen put up both hands, warding off further help.
"Senthys." His father nudged him. "Stay with him. I'll get food in here."
"You're worried about food?"
"I doubt he's eaten. Besides, you two need a moment alone." Saint-Cyr nodded toward Khyffen and pushed through the door.
Senth pulled up a chair. "You okay?"
"Tired and..." He glanced toward the door where Saint-Cyr had exited. "He's right. Hungry. A little."
"Me too. Man, this is right clinkers. I'm so smacked right now."
>
Khyffen squinted. "Sorry. What? Clinkers? Smacked?"
"Clinkers. Means awesome. Smackers is... You don't speak Cobber?"
"Speak what?"
"Cobber. Kelthian street slang." Senth shrugged. "No worries. You'll pick it up."
"Back on Tarth, before I got in trouble with the law, I had high-born clients. Got to be a favorite with a group of women in Parliament."
"Royal!"
"No, they were commoners."
Senth chuckled. "Royal means cool. Awesome."
"Oh. More slang." Khyffen gave a single nod. "Got it. I wouldn't have earned a drak if I talked like that. It's not easy sounding educated when you never went to school, but I watched every vid I could get my hands on and I mimicked the people I serviced. No offense, but I try to avoid picking up things off the street." He shrugged. "Well, except for hot women."
Senth laughed.
"You-- you laugh the way I remember her. Mother didn't laugh much, but when she did..." Khyffen looked down at his hands. "Everything wrong in the world went away and it was no one but me and her. Seeing her laugh..." He traced a scratch on the wooden table. "Good memories. Not many, but good."
"I wish I had memories of her. I got nothin'. I don't suppose you know anything about my father. I mean my bio-dad, not my real one."
"Real one?" Khyffen met Senth's gaze and held it in silence a moment. "You mean him?" He nudged his chin toward the door.
"Yeah. Believe me, my dad and I are a lot alike."
"Um... I'm not seeing a resemblance. You're not a fourth as dark-skinned. Although what's with the curls? His, I mean. Most Kelthians don't have loose curls."
"Curls?" Senth squinted. "Didn't have my eyes on, but jam and leave me sly. Not that kind of alike. I mean we act alike."
"Didn't have your eyes on jam? Sly?"
Senth shook his head. "Not eyes on jam. Eyes on means-- Um... I never looked. My eyes weren't on it. Weird, huh? Cobber's that way. Jam and leave me sly means forget it and forgive me. My father's the one who got up with me in the night. Read me stories. Taught me how to tie a tie. How to pick my first pocket." Senth held up one finger. "No, that's not technically true. He taught me how to do it well, but the first pocket I picked was his. We don't get along sometimes, but I love him." He leaned in closer. "Though if you tell him I said that, I'll deny everything."
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