She raised her hands, meaning to shove him back, but his aggression suddenly melted into aching tenderness. His mouth caressed, easing hers open so his tongue could play. She allowed the silken invasion for only a moment then turned her head sharply to the side. “This isn’t why I’m here.”
“I know.” He bent lower, exploring her neck, teasing her skin with his lips and tongue.
“I’m here for Chandar.” But her body felt hollow and her blood rushed through her ears, making her lightheaded and weak. She eased her hands higher, circled his neck, then rocked onto the balls of her feet. She needed to be closer, wanted more of him.
His arm wrapped around her waist and pressed her against his body. “We’ll go in a minute,” he promised, but his other hand slipped into her hair and his mouth returned to hers.
She didn’t wait for him to seduce her this time. Her lips parted for the first brush of his tongue, warm and welcoming. He groaned into her mouth and took the kiss deeper. Their tongues slid and curled, moving smoothly from her mouth to his as she became more aggressive.
Suddenly, he broke away and pressed his forehead against hers. “You’re here for Chandar.” Frustration and longing twisted through the reminder, making the words harsh yet also sad. He pushed off the wall and stepped back, motioning her onward with an unsteady sweep of his arm.
They walked for a while in tense silence. Her lips felt bruised, her breasts tender and he hadn’t even touched her there. Why did Rodytes have to make things so complicated? If two people were this attracted to each other, they ought to be able to scratch the itch without turning a simple biological need into something mystical.
Even in her mind the argument sounded superficial. The only reason their attraction was so powerful was because they were craving something far more important than sex. She didn’t understand exactly where it all led, but one night in Zilor’s bed had showed her that it was a destination she’d never visited before.
Needing a distraction, any distraction, she asked, “Why does Garin call you puppy?”
He ushered her into an elevator and said, “Deck One,” before he answered her question. “After our father died, I was terrified Garin was next, so I followed him around like a shadow to make sure nothing happened to him. He’d had enough of it one afternoon and snapped, ‘Are you my protector or my puppy?’ Bandar thought it was hilarious and I’ve been stuck with the nickname ever since.”
“How old were you? How old was Garin?”
“I was nine, so Garin must have been nineteen. That makes Bandar fifteen at the time.”
She wasn’t sure if asking a Rodyte his current age was rude or not, so she hedged the actual question. “How long has your father been gone?”
He looked down at her and smiled, obviously not fooled by the roundabout approach. “My father died thirty-four years ago. By human standards, I’m much too old for you. But Rodytes live considerably longer than humans, so age is relative.”
“You clearly age slower too. You barely look thirty, much less forty-three.”
He nodded as the elevator door slid open, then waited until they were walking again to clarify. “Our life cycles are similar. A Rodytes just takes longer to complete.”
“Then Kotto will still be young and virile when Raina is using a walker.” Her agile imagination provided a visual image and she shuddered. “That’s sort of creepy.”
“The transformation triggered by their bonding will at least double Raina’s lifespan. She’ll still be young and vibrant when you are using a walker.”
The underlying message was obvious. The same longevity was available to her, if she simply stopped resisting him. The possibility was intriguing, but she wasn’t willing to bolster his hopes by exploring the subject with him. She’d get Raina or Ashley alone and find out exactly what all this transformation business was about. “How does Raylon know Garin?”
“They’ve known each other since training and have served together ever since. Quinton has tried to have Raylon reassigned twice, but both times Garin made up an excuse for why an impending mission was impossible without Raylon.”
“Who is Quinton?” She’d heard so many names over the past two days. It was hard to keep them straight.
“The ruler of our planet. His title is crown stirate.”
“Your brother told the ruler of your planet to go to hell and the ‘crown stirate’ backed down? Damn. That doesn’t happen every day.”
“It does on Rodymia.” He made a disrespectful sound and motioned her down another hallway. “Quinton is weak and easily influenced. That’s one of the reasons our rebellion has grown so quickly. No one is afraid of him.” Zilor stopped in front of one of the doorways and a beam quickly scanned his face.
When the door didn’t immediately open, she asked. “What’s with the scanner?”
“It identifies any visitor, so the computer can notify the occupants.”
The door finally opened but Zilor stepped aside and motioned for Indigo to precede him. “I need to stay back, make sure I don’t spook her.”
She nodded then took a deep breath and moved inside. The cabin was larger and nicer than the one assigned to Zilor. Apparently rank had its advantages in any society. Raylon stood slightly back from the door, now wearing a black-and-gold uniform. Even fully dressed and freshly washed he looked fierce. Intimidating.
“Thanks for coming.” He motioned her forward then drew her attention toward the young woman seated in the far corner of the room. “Chandar, we have a visitor. Come say hello.”
At first Chandar didn’t acknowledge the directive or indicate that she was aware of anything around her. She’d dragged one of the armchairs from the sitting area over to the corner so she could gaze out the window, or actually gaze at the large vidscreen that someone had programed to appear like a window. The scene beyond was clearly not the inside of the moon. Dappled sunlight filtered through massive, leafy trees, creating an image both peaceful and intriguing.
“Chandar, you’re being rude.”
Raylon’s gentle reprimand brought her head around and when she saw Indigo her gaze narrowed and her brows drew together, creating subtle wrinkles above her nose. She slowly unfolded her legs and lowered her feet to the floor. Her gaze drifted beyond Indigo then widened when she spotted Zilor.
“That’s Zilor,” Raylon insisted in the same firm yet patient tone. “He’s here for our guest’s protection. He wants nothing from you.”
“Why does she need to be protected?”
“She’s very important,” Raylon told her. “We don’t want anything to harm or threaten her.”
So Chandar could speak. Indigo was starting to wish she’d had a much longer conversation with Raylon before she attempted first contact. Having seen Danvier, Chandar’s coloring wasn’t a surprise, but she appeared much younger than her brother. Silver-blonde hair flowed to her hips in shimmering waves. The effect was stunning even in the cabin’s defused light. Her pale skin and delicate features added to her youthful appearance until Indigo met her gaze. Chandar’s eyes were sky blue and the silver phitons were significantly wider than usual. At first glance her eyes were beautiful, but in their depths was such pain and devastation that Indigo had to glance away.
Chandar moved slowly toward them, her slim body swimming in the uniform she wore. Had she borrowed the clothes from Raylon? Why hadn’t he found something closer to her size? She’d folded back the sleeves onto her forearms and rolled up the pant legs, but she still shuffled as she crossed the floor.
“Why is she so important?” Chandar stopped just out of reach.
“Because she’s here to help you.”
“Help me do what?” Her gaze darted toward Indigo then back to Raylon as her fingers clenched.
“That’s up to you. What do you need help with?”
Her brows scrunched up again and her gaze slowly returned to Indigo. “Can you braid my hair?”
Thrilled to be addressed directly, Indigo smiled then panicked. “I h
aven’t even tried speaking Rodyte yet. Will she be able to understand me?” She looked at Raylon, but Chandar answered.
“If you braid my hair, I’ll teach you how to speak Rodyte.”
Indigo exhaled and recaptured her smile. “Deal.”
“We’re safe as long as we stay inside this cabin,” Chandar told Zilor without actually looking at him. “You can both go back to work now.”
“You heard the lady.” Raylon chuckled and motioned Zilor toward the door.
The men left and Chandar went into what Indigo presumed was the bathroom. She returned a short time later with a brush identical to the one Indigo had found in Zilor’s bathroom and several cloth-covered elastic bands. “Is Indigo your real name or just what you like being called?”
Indigo stared at her in shock for a moment then gave herself a firm mental shake. “It’s my real name, but how did you know?”
Chandar shrugged. “Raylon must have told me.”
She was nearly certain no one had mentioned it, but she didn’t want Chandar’s unexpected friendliness to evaporate, so she just held out her hand for the supplies. “What did you have in mind for your hair?”
“I just want it off my face.”
She could have done that herself with a simple three-strand plait, so Indigo disregarded the excuse. “I think we can do better than that. Where would you like to sit?”
“I always sit in my chair.”
“Fair enough.” They returned to the corner and Chandar sat down, curling her legs to one side as they’d been before. Indigo gathered Chandar’s long hair and draped it over the back of the chair then brushed out the impressive length before beginning to braid it. “Is the forest somewhere special or just an image that appeals to you?”
“Raylon programed a series of images. They’re places that should be familiar, but I don’t remember any of them.”
“Then why did you stop on this one?”
“I thought I saw something in the trees.” Her shoulders lifted and then she sighed. “I know that’s foolish. The images are static, but I keep coming back to this one.”
“Can I see the other images?”
“Computer, resume shuffle.” Indigo continued brushing Chandar’s hair as the forest became a beach and the beach became a city. “Did they tell you what happened to me?”
It was a dangerous question. The wrong answer could shut Chandar down, but the right answer might lead to her eventual restoration. After a quick hesitation, Indigo chose honesty. Trust was the foundation for any healthy relationship and she couldn’t build trust through deception. “They told me a little, but I was hoping you’d tell me more.”
“That’s the problem. I can’t remember anything. I know I did something horrible, but I have no idea what it was.”
Indigo paused and lowered the brush. She touched Chandar’s shoulder with her other hand. “Chandar, you’ve done nothing wrong.” She started to explain that horrible wrongs had been done to her, but decided they would gain more ground by going slowly.
“Then why can’t I remember?”
“Because a very evil man took the memories from you.”
Chandar twisted around in the chair and looked up at Indigo. “Why would someone do that?”
Had they locked her in this room and left her alone since her rescue? Had no one explained anything to her? Indigo rested her hands on the chair’s padded back, indecision twisting inside her. “What’s the last thing you remember clearly?”
“Raylon picked me up and carried me away.”
She hadn’t said rescued, or carried me away from the people who were hurting me. It was more than curious. “What did he carry you away from?”
“I’ve tried to remember, but there’s nothing left but scattered images and bursts of fear.”
“Was Raylon alone when he carried you away?”
Chandar took a moment to answer. She stared into the distance and her forehead creased. “Others were there, but I can’t see their faces anymore.” Suddenly, Chandar’s demeanor shifted. She turned back around and folded her hands in her lap. “What language are you speaking? I’ve never heard it before.”
“I’m human. The language is called English.”
“Is your home world also English?”
Indigo smiled, though she was disappointed by the evasion. “My home world is called Earth and the planet is divided into countries. I live in a country called the United States of America. Most call it the US or simply America.”
“Then why is your language called English?”
“Because many of the people who established America originally came from a country called England.”
Chandar glanced back at her and smiled. “Many but not all. I can feel a Rodyte resonance in your energy.”
“That’s what they tell me.” She parted Chandar’s hair down the middle and began French braiding on the right side. “I never knew any of my Rodyte relatives, but apparently there was more than one.”
“What’s the name of your city on Earth? I want to see where you live.”
“The city is Boulder. It’s in a state called Colorado.”
Chandar told the computer to display images of Boulder, Colorado, and Indigo smiled as familiar scenes started flashing before them. She saw a cityscape set against the backdrop of the distinct Flatirons rock formations, the red tile roofs of the university, then the historic clutter of old downtown. When a street with several Victorian homes displayed, Indigo said, “My house looks very much like one of those.”
“Your planet still harvests trees to build your dwellings? How…quaint.”
Without allowing Chandar’s arrogance to bother her, Indigo asked, “What do Rodytes use to build their homes?”
“A variety of alloys and recycled materials, much like our ships.”
If she could remember nothing before her rescue, how did she know that? “Do you have an image of your home?”
“Computer, display Harbinger Academy.”
For some reason Indigo pictured something far more industrial than the image that appeared. Surrounded by vivid green mountains complete with twin waterfalls, the complex appeared secluded and tranquil. Smaller pods branched out from a large center dome like legs on a gangly spider. Each outer building was capped with a smaller version of the center dome.
“It’s lovely.” She quickly secured the half-finished braid at the nape of Chandar’s neck then began weaving the left side. On instinct, Indigo asked, “Which building contained your quarters?”
Chandar pointed to one of the smaller pods. “I lived in that one with the other instructors until…”
“Until?”
She didn’t think Chandar would answer, but then she said, “Until the darkness engulfed me.”
They would eventually need to venture into the darkness, but first Chandar needed to learn that talking about her past was safe, that she would always be supported and never judged. “Tell me about your life before the darkness. What was your favorite part about being an instructor? What did you teach?”
“We were all harbingers, but some didn’t begin life that way. I helped them understand what would be expected of them and the changes they would endure in order to free their true nature.” Then in a small, uncertain voice she asked, “How are you doing this?”
“How am I doing what?” As she reached the nape of Chandar’s neck again, Indigo combined the six sections into three and secured the rest of Chandar’s hair into one thick braid.
“I’ve sat here for days trying to remember anything about my life and my mind refused to cooperate. You ask a few questions and the answers come pouring out without any effort.”
After binding the end of the braid with one of the stretch cloth bands, she tossed the braid over Chandar’s shoulder and moved in front of her. “Don’t fixate on why it’s working. Let’s just keep going. Tell me about Harbingers. All I know is you can see into the future.”
Chandar struggled for a moment then shook her head. “App
arently, it won’t work like that. Ask me specific questions.”
“You’ve felt my energy. I’m sure you know I have unusual abilities for a human. Will you allow me to scan while we talk? If I go anywhere that makes you uncomfortable, I’ll immediately stop.”
“I’m not sure I can lower my shields, but I’ll try.”
“Hold on. This will work better if we’re both comfortable.” Rather than dragging Chandar’s chair back where it belonged, Indigo moved another one of the armchairs over to her corner. It seriously crowded the bed on one side, but hopefully they wouldn’t be here too much longer. She sat down and wiggled out of the sandals. “Much better.” Chandar watched every move she made and gradually amusement brightened her gaze and a broad smile parted her lips. “What’s so funny?”
“Why did you do that to your hair? The natural color is beautiful.”
Not sure if she was insulted or flattered, she asked, “What is my natural color? I’ve been enhancing it for so long I’m not sure anymore.”
Chandar’s smile vanished and she glared instead. “If you expect me to be honest with you, don’t lie to me.”
“How was that a lie? I know what color my hair was six years ago. I’m honestly not sure what color it would be if I stopped coloring it now.”
“Look into my mind and I’ll show you.” Chandar’s phitons gleamed, drawing Indigo’s attention to her penetrating gaze.
She stared into the harbinger’s eyes and chills skated down her back. Power boiled beneath the surface of Chandar’s calm façade, banked—no blocked—but still waiting. Indigo sank into the darkness of Chandar’s pupils and found an image waiting there. She saw herself standing in front of a mirror, not just any mirror but the mirror in her own bathroom. She leaned toward the reflective surface and examined her dark brown hair. Strange blue strands had started threading through the brown. She pulled one out and held it toward the light, not believing what her eyes perceived. Why the hell was her hair turning blue?
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