Aelia's response surprised him. “Not as incredible as you think,” she said.
He raised a brow. “Looks like you've had some discoveries too. You learned something about yourself, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “And about you.” The link between them was easier now, stronger, and she could feel his exhaustion beyond the determination that was driving him, the strength in him. She could also feel his loss. “Kyle, you need to come in. There's someone you should talk to.”
He squeezed her hand lightly. “I will, I just have to talk to Rolly first. Go back inside, I'll be there in a while.” And he added softly, “I won't run off like I did, I promise.”
She just looked at him. That wasn't what she was worried about.
“I know,” he said. “But I have to make sure security around here is the way I want it.”
She nodded, and he walked off in Rolly's direction. After a moment she walked back inside, her brow slightly furrowed. Neora and Ahir were standing just inside the doors. She walked up to them and addressed Ahir gently. “He needs to know.”
Ahir nodded.
Kyle approached Rolly resolutely, and Rolly had to steel himself not to take a step back in the face of the force in the man's walk. He realized he was awed. He knew much about how the organization trained its best, and the man approaching him was a professional of the highest level. But that was nothing compared with who he was. What he was would be the best way to put it. And when one added that, the capabilities, the instincts that came with it, it was what ultimately made him a formidable man.
But Rolly wasn’t awed just because of the man's true identity, which he had finally been made privy to, as head of Aeterna's defense and security, while Kyle was away, now that this identity had been ascertained. He was also awed by his behavior. The guts it took to help Her, go against the organization, then go back to face them, to face Jennison, of all people. The courage it took to make sure She arrived here, to face those at Aeterna knowing he might be seen as the killer he thought he was. The drive it took to keep him going, keep him focused on his one concern—Her safety, not his own.
Even without him knowing who he really was. Or who She was.
“I ran some scenarios on the way here. You've got some loopholes we're going to close. Aelia's safety—and the safety of anyone else here, for that matter—must be ensured.” Kyle's words were spoken quietly but left no place for argument. Rolly wasn’t surprised. Without knowing it, this man was already assuming his rightful role.
They turned to go inside, to the control center, and Kyle saw some people not far off to the side of the house, on the well-lit lawns. They were standing around in small groups, talking in hushed voices. His instincts told him they weren't a security risk, but he wasn't one to let his guard down, all the more so since he was in unfamiliar territory, surrounded by people who were taking quite an unusual amount of interest both in Aelia and in him.
He indicated them with his head. “What's this all about?”
Rolly threw a look at them. “They've been flocking here ever since Her arrival. Some of them live around here, others have come from farther away. They are Firsts, all of them, and they've come to see their hope come to life with their own eyes.” He opened the door for Kyle. “And more will come. The word is spreading, and Firsts worldwide will soon know She is here, if they don’t already know.”
“Then I'll have to intercept Semner away from here, I can't risk him hurting anyone or creating a hostage situation,” Kyle said thoughtfully, as if speaking more to himself than to Rolly. Throwing a last, wondering look behind him, at these people who were there awaiting to catch a glimpse of Aelia, he followed Rolly inside.
They went over Aeterna's security thoroughly again, this time with Kyle simulating a sole perpetrator attacking the security layout from all sides, until each and every one of his questions was answered and he was aware of every manual and technological means employed at every spot on, above or underground, at any given moment of the day. He noted blind spots and was pleased to hear that they were being covered, and raised his own loopholes to which Rolly reacted immediately, making the necessary adjustments with the help of his people, who now surrounded them around Aeterna's hologram under the great house.
Their experience, their loyalty and their perception of the importance of their job were evident, and remarkable. But even so, there was one thing they couldn't do. They couldn't judge their preparedness from his view, the view of a killer trained by the very organization that was targeting them. His view, and Semner's. And it was with that in mind that he made his suggestions, directing Rolly on how to supplement the application of Aeterna's security technologies as well as its people.
Watching Rolly talking to his people and hearing his own safeguards being applied put Kyle's mind at ease. The rest would be up to him. Nodding at Rolly, he turned and left, going back up to the main house to look for Aelia. He wanted, needed to know what she had learned.
He knew where to go, it was that simple. With his connection to his past severed, and now that he had made a conscious decision to return to her, whatever it was that linked them was stronger, and he let it guide him to where she was. He found himself once again in the entry hall of the house with the two staircases that led up, with those portraits that lined them. He passed them without even a glance, his eyes on the woman who was coming toward him. She halted and waited for him to join her, saying nothing. She didn't have to.
They walked together in the direction she had come from, and Kyle soon found himself in a large drawing room looking to the back of the great house. It was comfortably and tastefully furnished with sofas and couches, small tables thoughtfully placed among them. Floor to ceiling picture windows with French doors in two places dominated one wall, and beyond them Kyle saw the grounds closest to the house, lit against the dark night. The room, as did the entire house, in fact, made him feel as if he was in one of the stately homes the likes of which he had seen on visits to the older parts of this continent, houses that spoke of history and heritage, except that this one was lived in and meticulously maintained.
And in fact very advanced where it counted, he knew so very well.
His gaze fell on a distinguished old woman dressed in flowing white robes—like the women in the portraits were wearing, he thought—and on the man who was sitting on the sofa beside her. And even before he looked toward Aelia, he knew exactly where she had come to stand in the room. Even before his eyes stopped on her, standing by the picture windows, looking at him, he knew, he felt her, as he did throughout this great house, as he did just now when he was coming to see her, as if his entire being was a compass that could point to where this woman was. He—
A subtle movement caught his eye, and he realized she had deliberately turned her gaze toward the two other people in the room beside them, guiding him. He turned his attention to them and she introduced them.
“Kyle, these are Neora, the Keeper, and Ahir Kennard, head of the Council of the Firsts, and the Protector.”
Where earlier it might have seemed odd to him, the way she introduced them, their titles, so naturally, now Kyle too was ready to accept this despite the questions it still raised. He acknowledged the old woman respectfully and turned to do the same for the man beside her, then stopped. The elderly man had on his face an expression Kyle had never before seen in anyone looking at him. He stood up and walked to Kyle, his face full of emotion. He then reached up to him, fleetingly touched his cheek in what seemed to Kyle to almost be disbelief, then regained control of himself with evident difficulty.
“Kyle,” he said. “Is that the name they gave you?”
Kyle's heart accelerated as the realization hit him. This old man knew him. Not just as the man who had tried to kill Aelia, nor as the man who had brought her here. Him, who he was. Before Jennison, before the organization, before he was taken.
“Kyle.”
He tore his gaze away from the old man and turned to Neora. Kind eyes
reassured him. “Go with him. He is where your answers lie.”
Ahir walked toward the door, and Kyle followed him. At the door he looked back at Aelia, perplexed, but his confusion only increased when, after meeting his eyes, she lowered hers, but not before he detected sadness in them. His gaze lingered on her, and then he turned and followed Ahir out the door. If that's where his answers were, it was a good place for him to start.
Chapter Thirteen
Ahir led Kyle up one of the two main staircases to the wing immediately adjacent to Aelia’s, and to a set of double doors similar to those he'd stood before when he went to see her. The doors opened to reveal a small man in a tidy suit, who, on seeing them, brightened and moved back in deference to let them in, sneaking a curious peek at Kyle. Kyle followed Ahir in and found himself in a spacious apartment.
“I'm Remi, Sir.” The man introduced himself as Kyle took in his surroundings. “I'm in charge of these rooms, and I will be taking care of all your needs here, as I have done for Master Kennard, and as my family has always done for the Kennards.”
The words triggered a question in Kyle's mind, but it disappeared into the background when, as he looked around him, a memory surfaced. Something hazy, beyond his grasp. This place, the same sitting room he was in. A woman laughing, sitting on that couch by the huge fireplace in the opposite wall. But he was looking up at her, up from the thick carpet on the floor, and he felt safe, felt as he'd never felt his entire life—
“You remember.”
He started. Ahir was standing in the middle of the room, watching him. He walked toward Kyle. “Remi, leave us, please,” he said to the valet.
Remi looked from him to Kyle and grinned in elation. “Yes, Sir.” He left the room.
Kyle approached the fireplace. He tried to capture the memory, but it eluded him, faded away. “I've been here before.”
“You have.”
Kyle turned to Ahir, a frown on his face.
“You were born here, at Aeterna.”
“I was born in the United States,” Kyle said, but he didn't sound convincing even to himself.
“No, you were stolen to the United States.”
Kyle's mind reeled, and he sat down on the couch near the fireplace of his memory, now cold and dark. Ahir sat down facing him. He waited until the young man’s eyes focused on him again.
“You were born here. Your parents were Firsts, and so are you. Your parents traveled quite a lot between our different regions and centers, as this family's role mandates, but their home was always here.” Ahir paused. “When you were four, while on a short stay in Malta, your parents were attacked. They were found shot dead in their car, executed. Your father was at the wheel, and your mother was in the back with your car seat. You were gone. We’ve been searching for you ever since.”
Kyle shook his head in disbelief. This was the second time in less than a day that he heard that the man he thought of as his father wasn't, that he himself wasn't who he thought he was—that he wasn't even human?—and this was just one too many revelations. No, this couldn’t be. Even with what Jennison had told him, there must have been some truth to his life.
He tried to hang on to something, the smallest thread of certainty, to what he had never doubted was his. “No, I knew my father. He was a good man. He said that my mom died giving birth to me and that I reminded him of her. I was all he had, and he loved me. He . . .” He fell silent.
“He might very well have loved you,” Ahir said gently. “He raised you as his son since you were a small child. That does something to a man.”
Kyle thought about the man who had called himself his father. He was a driven man, and Kyle had known from an early age that he was guiding him to walk a very specific path. But he'd thought that he just wanted his son to be like him, and to be able to protect himself in what his father repeatedly said was a tough world. But was there a hidden agenda in his acts? After all, he had to keep this boy he had taken loyal to him as a parent so that he could teach him all that he had, train him to be what the organization had designated him to be.
No, he couldn't believe it. Memories came to his mind, of his father taking him camping, teaching him how to fish and laughing with him when he fell into the water trying to grasp a slippery catch or sitting by his hospital bed day and night when he was shot on a mission that had gone wrong. This was his dad, the only family he ever had. What this man, this stranger was telling him now mixed with Jennison's harsh words, and he shook his head and stood up.
“No,” he said and walked away toward the door, ready to leave this man behind, ready to leave it all behind, just as he did hours before when he turned his back on Jennison. These people, their truths, they weren't his either.
“I knew your parents.”
He continued walking.
“When your father didn’t arrive that day with you and your mother, I knew something was wrong. I just knew. And so did your grandmother.”
Kyle halted.
“She never stopped looking for you until the day she passed. And neither did I.”
Kyle turned back. The old man walked to him. There was no other way to do this, and there was no waiting anymore. “My son, Kyan . . . you look very much like him. But from what I've seen, you have your mother's strength of purpose, her good heart. She would have liked that. They both would.”
Kyle stared. Ahir took his wallet out of his inner jacket pocket and fished out a photo, which he unfolded carefully. An old photo, the creases in it attesting to the many times in so many years it had been unfolded and then refolded again, the losses and regrets of its owner evident in every crease. He handed Kyle the photo with a shaking hand.
Kyle hesitated, then took it. A young couple, smiling happily at the camera, the baby on his mother's lap more interested in her necklace than in posing for this festive family photo.
The resemblance between himself and the man in the photo was uncanny.
“You're my grandfather,” Kyle said with astonishment, accepting this one truth he could not deny.
Ahir only nodded, unable to speak through the tears that threatened to flow. His grandson. All these years he'd searched for the Light, never stopped, but not only because this was his duty. He knew that where the Light would be, that's where his grandson would eventually find himself. His grandson, who, like him, was born a Protector. It might take time, he knew, but the Light and Her Protector would find each other, as they were destined to. And he was right. He'd found him. And now—
“What's my name?”
Kyle's voice broke the old man's reverie. He looked at his grandson, not comprehending.
“My parents, the name they gave me. What is it?” This one piece of information, this one shred of identity he could begin thinking in terms of, this starting point, was what he would latch onto now.
“Adam. Your name is Adam. Adam Ahir Kennard.”
“Ahir.”
“Yes, after me, and Adam because your mother loved the name.”
Kyle closed his eyes and tried to center himself, to place each piece into its rightful place. His entire life—past, present and future—was rearranging itself in his mind, in his very soul. A touch on his arm pulled him out of the chaos of his thoughts, and he opened his eyes. The man who was his grandfather, his family, was looking at him with what Kyle now realized was a mix of love and relief. It was the expression of a man who'd been given his greatest wish, what he must have searched for, for two and half decades.
“Come,” Ahir said. “You have had quite a few days, haven't you? There is much to explain, so much you need to know. So much that I want to tell you. But first, perhaps you would like to change, maybe rest, have you slept at all? Remi made sure your rooms are ready, and I think you will find everything you need there.”
“My rooms?”
“Of course. Had you grown up here, eventually you would have been given your own part of this wing. In fact, the day would have come when you yourself would have become the head of
the family, head of the Kennards, and this entire wing of the house would have been yours.” And this would be, Ahir reminded himself, still unable to believe it himself. “As it is, you were gone, but I still prepared your rooms for the day you would return.”
Ahir took Kyle further inside the apartment until they came to a staircase that led up. “This leads to the upper floor of this wing, to your parents' main rooms. I had them renovated over the years, according to your age. The last time was on what would have been your twenty-fifth birthday, I just went up there and thought it would be fitting for the young man you are if I had them changed again, modernized.” The old man looked pained, and Kyle felt a pang at what he must have gone through all these years. “Of course, anything you want to change now, it is yours to do with as you please. It's your home.”
His only home, Kyle realized. He would never be able to go back to his old apartment. Jennison had probably gotten rid of it already, erased him. He shook his head, not bothering to finish the thought.
Walking up, Kyle was surprised to find himself in a spacious loft apartment, tastefully decorated to suit a man, with a modern feel to it unlike what he'd seen so far in this wing. No, more than that. Worse than that. This loft had anticipation written all over it, hope, while the part of the wing where his grandfather lived had felt as if the life of its inhabitant had come to a standstill. Which was exactly how it was, wasn't it? Ahir's life had come to a standstill the day tragedy hit, taking his family away from him, and since then it was focused on the search for his grandson, for Kyle.
He looked around him. The large space he was standing in had a high ceiling, as was characteristic of the entire house, and the large windows alongside the main wall opened to the back, looking far to the horizon, giving the place an airy feeling. It would, he thought, be full of light during the day, but now it brought starry dark skies in, instilling peace. On one side, the room opened to a half-hidden semicircular alcove, with a new-looking screen much like the one he'd seen in Aeterna's security center. To create a work space, it seemed, and he wondered if it had been installed only now, since he had first gotten here, after he had shown the interest he had in this house, its security. He turned the other way and walked up a few stairs to a bedroom, as tastefully furnished as the rest of the loft. On one side were doorways to a bathroom, fully equipped with anything he might need, and a closet, which he was surprised to find full. He turned to Ahir, not understanding.
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