Under Different Stars

by Amy A. Bartol

  The place is beautiful, made of stone with a cedar shingle roof; it’s a true, historic hunting lodge. Trey exits the skiff, extending his hand to me and helping me out. He doesn’t drop my hand, but holds on to it as he leads me to the doors. Entering the mansion, Trey says loudly, “Illuminate hall, security—report respiration.”

  A fem-bot voice responds, “There are four Etharians present.”

  “Map voice recognition Trey Allairis.”

  “Greetings, Trey Allairis,” the robotic voice responds.

  “Kricket, say your name,” Trey instructs. When I do, the robot repeats her greeting to me. Jax and Wayra do the same.

  Trey orders, “Wayra, go room by room and do a sweep.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Wayra responds, pulling a chrome weapon that looks like a handgun from a holster under his pant leg and walking into the next room.

  “Climate control to forty-two draks, ignite fire. Jax, find a blanket for Kricket,” Trey says, leading me to the massive stone fireplace on the other side of the room. A fire has sparked and is now popping and crackling in the grate. The boom of a firecracker in the distance sounds, causing Trey to frown at Jax.

  Wrapping a blanket around my shoulders, Jax says grimly, “I think they just found another squelch tracker. They should question that knob knocker, Kyon.”

  Trey shakes his head. “No. It wasn’t him. He wants Kricket alive.”

  I feel myself pale. “So, that thing was meant specifically for me?” I ask. “Like a smart bomb or something?”

  “Yes,” Trey responds. “They’re programmed to track a specific target for a surgical strike.”

  “How does it recognize its target?”

  “Voice, optical, heat signature, heartbeat—depends on how it was programmed,” Jax explains. “Someone wanted you to have a very bad night.”

  “Makes me feel so warm and cozy inside,” I reply with a fake smile.

  “You should be a Cavar, Kricket,” Jax smiles admiringly.

  Wayra enters the room, nodding to Trey before saying through his teeth, “I say we line up every one of those Regent police and interrogate them one by one. Someone knows something! Did you just hear another one go off?” he rages, pointing toward the window.

  “We heard,” Trey states in a calmer tone. He strips off his damp jacket and shirt, laying them neatly across a chair to dry. The firelight makes his wet skin gleam; it flickers over his muscled abdomen like a lover’s tongue. Suddenly, warmth spreads inside of me as I imagine how his skin would taste if I was to do the same.

  I shiver with a renewed awareness of him. His black, scrolling military tattoos do nothing to hide the deep vee of his hip bones above his waistband. My eyes travel back again to his powerful upper arms. Even if I was to wrap both of my hands around one of them, his biceps are so big that my fingers would never meet. He’d used those arms tonight to pick me up and throw me over his shoulder as we ran from the squelch tracker sent to kill me. It could’ve torn him apart as well, but he’d done it anyway.

  A deeper desire flares in me when I glance at his face and see that he’s assessing me in quite the same way. Trey’s violet eyes darken as they rove over my wet dress; the scarlet fabric clings to my breasts and my other curves like a second skin. My hair has fallen in loose, damp waves over my shoulders. I can still feel the place were he’d woven his fist into my hair at the base of my head and pulled me to him for an intoxicating kiss. I want him to kiss me like that again—like he needs me more than he needs to breathe.

  Wayra clears his throat as he unbuttons his shirt and hands it to me. “It’s dry,” he says apologetically.

  “Uh, thanks,” I murmur in a daze, taking the shirt from Wayra.

  “There’s a commodus over there,” he says, indicating a door to the right.

  I find the bathroom and quickly strip out of my wet dress. Pulling on Wayra’s long, formal shirt, it almost reaches my knees. I roll up the sleeves and drag my fingers through my damp hair before exiting the bathroom.

  As I near the fireplace in the main room again, I pull the blanket closer, hearing the guys fall silent. Trey indicates that I should sit as he hands me a glass of water. I can tell by the look on his face that he notices my hand shaking when I grasp it. Sinking into the seat, I manage to say, “Thanks.”

  “Wayra, contact Dylan. He’s the best at dissecting squelch debris,” Trey orders in a clipped tone. “I want him here before morning.”

  “We need our own on this. Fenton and Hollis can be here in a few parts,” Jax says. “That’s only a few hours, Kricket,” he translates for me.

  “Get Drex and Gibon, too,” Trey adds.

  “Yes, sir,” Wayra says, pulling a communicator from his pocket and speaking into it rapidly while pacing the room.

  “Unknown Etharians approaching perimeter,” the feminine robot voice says, startling me and making me stand immediately. Trey and Jax both pull chrome weapons from their belts, pointing them at the entrance.

  Feeling the urge to hide, I take a deep breath as Kyon pushes the doors of the lodge open and walks in with a confidence I hope one day to possess. “Where is Kricket?” he asks, dismissing the fact that there are now three gun-like weapons trained on him.

  Lowering his weapon, Trey responds, “She’s safe.”

  “That’s not what I asked,” Kyon retorts, scanning the room and seeing me peeking from behind the chair. Lecto and Forester are with Kyon, trying to stare down Wayra and Jax. “Kricket…” he trails off when he takes in my wet hair and Wayra’s shirt.

  I pull the blanket closer to me and raise my chin, saying, “What’s the prophecy, Kyon?”

  “You’re direct,” he states, coming nearer, “and that is something that we should discuss…privately.” His eyes bore into mine. “I’ll take you to my quarters. We’ll guard you there until I can have an audience with the Regent. He’ll see reason and then I can take you home.”

  “Have you ever heard the sound a squelch tracker makes, Kyon?” I ask quietly, watching his reaction.

  “Yes,” he replies, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “It’s like,” I pause for a moment, thinking. “It’s like what I imagine a butterfly would sound like if it could scream.” A shiver tears through me.

  “I’ll kill the one who is responsible for that,” Kyon replies honestly.

  “Em Nark?” I probe, trying to see what he knows.

  “Is dead,” Kyon replies in a calm tone.

  “What?” I ask, stunned by his answer.

  “His trift disintegrated as it passed over Violet Hill. That’s Rafe territory, if you’re unfamiliar with the area,” he replies, watching me sink into the chair again and look at the fire.

  “Come…I will take care of this,” he urges me, extending his hand. Goosebumps rise on my arms as I ignore his hand.

  “She stays,” Trey replies easily.

  “With you…half naked?”

  “With me…half naked.”

  “She is my intended consort,” Kyon states, clenching his teeth.

  “She’s so much more than that,” Trey replies.

  Kyon’s eyes shift to me. “He cannot protect you, Kricket,” he watches me struggle to keep my cool.

  “Did someone kill him…the Narc?” I ask, my voice coming out in a whisper.

  “You don’t believe that his trift just blew up by itself, do you?”

  “Why?” I feel ill.

  “You’re not asking the right question,” Kyon replies.

  “Which is?” I shoot back.

  “Why let him live?” he responds in a cold tone.

  “That’s so harsh!” I say, looking at the calculation in his eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “What do you mean?” he looks puzzled. “He was a threat to you, Kricket, and you act like you’re sorry he’s dead.”

  “Is he dead because of what went on tonight? Because of me?”

  He smiles like I asked something completely lame. “Of course,” he replies easily, �
�but proving that would be nearly impossible…since no one in the room tonight will be willing to discuss what was imparted there. If there is an investigation, it will be concluded as a tragic accident.”

  “What?” I choke, feeling responsible.

  “No one here wants an international incident. Therefore, the death of the ambassador will be…neatly explained away.” Kyon watches my reaction.

  They’re all so powerful that they can murder people with no repercussions. That means he’s not going away…ever. “I’m never going to be your consort,” I state, hearing my voice shake.

  “Your naivety is so attractive,” Kyon says with a slow smile. “Try to hold on to it.”

  My eyes narrow, “Your single-mindedness is creepy,” I counter, clenching my fists. “Try to lose it.”

  “You’re so passionate and resolute. How could I possibly let you go?” Kyon is still smiling.

  Frowning, Trey says in a deadly tone, “I’ll make you see that letting her go is the only option available to you.”

  Kyon’s eyes shift to Trey’s. “Don’t tread where you don’t belong, Rafe,” Kyon says, his brows drawing together in a scowl, “or even regeneration won’t put you back together.”

  “You can leave now, or you can remain and we’ll see who’ll need to be regenerated,” Trey replies, looking calm.

  Kyon’s fists clench, before he says, “Touch her and I will make sure that not even your soul will survive.”

  “If I touch her, she’ll have my soul,” Trey replies.

  I see Kyon’s nostrils flare and his eyes go to mine as he says, “Be prepared to leave in the morning.” Fear makes my legs feel weak as I watch him leave with Forester and Lecto.

  “Kyon is going to go directly to the Regent. I need to leave here before Manus gives me to him,” I blurt out, seeing the shock on the faces of Wayra and Jax.

  “We’re not going to let that happen,” Trey replies gently. “He won’t get an audience until morning and Victus will be there to argue for you.” Even with his reassurance, I can hardly keep still. Letting the blanket drop, I pace in front of the fire.

  “This is insane. Someone killed the Narc because of what I said,” I breathe, knowing I sound as freaked out as I feel. “I didn’t know they’d kill him,” I admit, feeling choked.

  “It’s not your fault,” he replies, staring into my eyes. “You probably saved lives by alerting us to the troops on the borders. Now a counter offensive can be mounted.” Trey reaches out and takes my hand. “You need to rest now. Let’s find you a room here.”

  “But…Kyon knows where I am. I have to go because this has the huge potential of ending badly for me,” I say, feeling my hand shaking in his. He squeezes it reassuringly.

  “You’re safe from him,” Trey says, leading me toward the stairway to the second floor. “Jax, contact Victus and fill him in. Wayra get the Cavars here.” Taking the stairs, we make it to the second floor.

  “No offense, but I need a Plan B. Why can’t Kyon take a hint? It wasn’t even a hint! I flat out called him creepy, Trey, and it was like a turn on to him,” I rant, waiting by the door as Trey checks out a huge bedroom.

  “What are you thinking for your Plan B?” Trey asks quietly, going to the window and scanning the exterior.

  “Hiding could be a plan…or heading back to the Forest of O could be an option…” I trail off when he frowns at me.

  “Why would you need to hide when you have friends who’ll help you?” Trey asks.

  “How long will I get to keep you?” I counter, wanting to bite my lip as soon as the words are out.

  “What do you mean?” He’s clearly avoiding my question.

  “How long?” I repeat, looking at my hands.

  “I don’t know. No formal plans have been made,” he replies in a gruff tone. “I’ll help to secure things for you. Once I know you’re stable here, then…” he shrugs.

  “Then it’s on to the next mission,” I finish for him, feeling very stupid. A familiar pain squeezes my heart. I know better than to let myself become attached to anyone, like I’ve allowed myself to become to Trey, but it happened too fast to avoid it.

  “I’ll always be your friend, Kricket, that won’t change,” he says in a strained voice, seeing my emotions.

  “Yeah, no, of course…friends,” I nod with a contrived smile. My face flushes with heat and tears prickle my eyes. “Because I always kiss my friends like you kissed me tonight in the fountain. In fact, I should go and kiss Wayra and Jax goodnight before I turn in.”

  Trey frowns. “I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he admits. “We shouldn’t have escaped tonight—squelch trackers don’t miss, so it was like a rush when we survived.” He looks into my eyes, trying to see if I understand what he’s saying.

  “Heat of the moment?” I ask, feeling my heart sink further.

  “It’s like you’re some kind of charm against danger. Like you repel it. Saers don’t ignore prey…squelch trackers don’t lose targets,” he says, watching my reaction to what he’s saying.

  “And that’s the only reason you kissed me?” I ask and see him look away from me.

  “I have…obligations that I…Friendship is what I’m offering you, Kricket. Don’t look for more from me,” he says softly, heading toward the door. I move so he can get by me. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be grueling.”

  “Okay,” I murmur, feeling embarrassed and awkward. I close the door behind him and walk to the bed. Lying against its silky pillows, I allow tears to slide silently down my cheeks, feeling like I just lost something precious.

  **

  I awake to a blazing sun coming through my window. My arm comes up to shield my eyes. When my eyes adjust to the brightness, I pull my arm back and see food on a serving tray on the bedside table. I sit up against the pillows, rubbing my eyes. “Good, you’re up!” Aella says, bouncing from the chair across from my bed. “I was told not to wake you. You sleep a lot!” she smiles, coming to my side.

  “Aella…uhh, hi. How long have I been sleeping?” I ask, feeling groggy.

  She shrugs. “I don’t know, awhile, I guess. It’s sixteen parts and the sun is in its zenith. I need to get you dressed. You’re to accompany the Regent on a ride with some members of the House of Lords.” She pushes a piece of round toast into my hand while making me get out of bed. “You need to wash and dress…hurry,” she urges.

  “Why didn’t you just wake me up sooner?” I grumble, feeling annoyed as she ushers me to the lavare to shower.

  “Because he said I couldn’t,” she states, nudging the toast nearer to my mouth.

  “Who is he,” I ask before stuffing the bread in my mouth.

  “The really beautiful Cavar…uhh…Trey?”

  “Oh,” I frown, feeling a stab of jealousy that she thinks he’s attractive, too. “Yeah, him.”

  Showering quickly, I walk out of the lavare wrapped in a towel to find clothing lying on the bed. I pull on the stone-colored pants that cling to my every curve and tuck a beautiful white blouse into them. Aella hands me an exquisitely tailored black jacket. Gazing at myself in the mirror, she loosely braids my hair. “Here, put these on and let’s go,” Aella says, handing me long, black boots.

  “What am I doing again?” I ask suspiciously, while tugging on the boots.

  “You’re meeting with the Regent, Ateur Victus, Ateur Braedan, Ateur Gustoff, Haut Kyon—”

  I frown as I interrupt, “Kyon is going to be there?”

  “Yes,” she wrinkles her nose like she smells something gross. “I don’t know why they’re letting him stay here. He’s a scary nim.”

  “He wants to make me his consort.”

  Aella drops her brush as her mouth falls open. “But, that’s ridiculous. You’re a Rafe citizen,” she says defensively.

  “I’m not thrilled about it.” Seeing her confusion I add, “I think he’s a chester.”

  She gives a girly gasp. “Me, too!” she squeaks. “Stay away from him if you can. He’s dange
rous.”

  “That’s the plan,” I admit, smiling at her advice.

  Following her downstairs, Wayra and Jax are milling around with big, brawny Rafes that have to be Cavars, judging by their size.

  “Kricket,” Wayra says. “This is Gibon, Dylan, Fenton, Hollis and Drex. They’re part of our team.”

  “Hey, sup?” I say, lifting my chin in greeting. Immediately, I see them trying not to laugh. “I mean…greetings, Etharians,” I amend, blushing and giving them a formal nod of my head.

  Each one sinks to his knee in front of me saying, “Greetings, Fay Kricket.”

  “Yeah…you don’t have to do that with me…we’re good,” I say, embarrassed.

  Trey contradicts me. “Yes, they do,” he says. Seeing him now after what he said to me last night is making my blush deepen. He’s dressed like me and so is Wayra, but everyone else has on very chic, urban clothing that makes me want to change.

  Straightening my shoulders, I ask, “Can’t we all just be normal—on the same tier or whatever you want to call it without all this nonsense?” I feel prickly as they rise in front of me.

  “No,” Trey replies. “They’re your guards. Not your friends.”

  “Where I come from, anyone who has my back is my friend. If they have my back, then I’ll have theirs, too, and I don’t need anyone to bow to me.”

  Trey’s voice is calm, but he’s stern as he says, “We’re not on Earth anymore and you will learn to adhere to the customs of the culture you’re in now.”

  Trying not to roll my eyes at Trey, I murmur, “Fine. Aella, where am I supposed to go?”

  “The stables.” She hands me a riding helmet and a crop.

  Looking at the crop and blushing, I say, “I’d hoped you were speaking metaphorically…like riding high or riding the wave of admiration.”

  “No, no, you’re riding spixes.”

  “Nooo,” I whine, panicking. “Can’t we just go—I don’t know—golfing?”

  “What’s golfing?” Aella asks me.