Cael

by Annabelle Rex

  “My security team…”

  “Need to know that you’ve not blown up, I know,” Asha said, pulling them on to the motorway. “When we get to the site, I’ll call Marta. She can get back on to the police radio, let them know. I know it means keeping them waiting a bit but… Let’s just say I’d like to get out of the city limits before anything else can go wrong.”

  The light had gone by the time Asha pulled them off the motorway and on to country lanes. She drove with the assurance of someone who knew exactly where they were going, turning onto a tiny little side road that was barely more than a dirt track. If the weather hadn’t been so unseasonably warm and dry, Cael thought they might not have got the ungainly motorhome down it.

  The end of the dirt track opened up into a circular clearing. If this was a campsite, there weren’t any other campers, or even any signage anywhere. Nothing at all marked the space out as somewhere used by holiday makers, except a small, overgrown fire pit at the centre of the clearing.

  Asha pulled on the handbrake and switched off the engine, leaving the lights of the motorhome on as she surveyed the space before them.

  “I don’t think anybody has been here in years,” she said, gazing out of the windscreen like she was seeing something other than what was actually there. After a moment, she shook her head, coming back to the present, switching off the lights, unclipping her seatbelt and pulling a lever on her chair, turning it round so it faced in to the motorhome. She stood up, walking through the darkness with the ease of someone familiar with the space, switching on the internal lights as she reached the little kitchen.

  “I’m going to get changed out of this ridiculous outfit,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder at him. “And then I’m going to get in touch with Marta and Nell. Help yourself to anything you can find in the cupboards if you’re hungry. I won’t be long.

  At the other end of the motorhome, she drew back a curtain, briefly revealing a bedroom beyond it, before she snapped it shut again behind her.

  Chapter 11

  ASHA COULDN’T GET OUT OF THE uniform quick enough. While she liked it, it wasn’t exactly the most comfortable, the starched collar of the shirt scratching at her neck, the tie leaving her feeling a little choked. Removing them was bliss. She looked to her wardrobe, wondering what to change into, before settling on her pyjamas - a loose pair of grey trousers and a cozy white top. So it wasn’t exactly a sexy look, she didn’t care. All she wanted was to feel relaxed. Comfortable.

  She slumped back onto her bed, tension seeping out of her as the mattress took her weight. Her eyes felt impossibly heavy, exhaustion catching up with her now her body had stopped running on adrenaline. Exhaustion and hunger. She was glad Mal had been able to give her a few additional supplies. She didn’t think there were enough scraps in the cupboards to feed two people.

  She would figure out food in a minute, though. She had things to do first.

  In the time it had taken to drive from Mal’s to the campsite, her phone had accrued numerous messages and missed calls from Marta and Nell. Asha ignored them for now - first she had to deal with Crastor.

  She messaged him, warning him not to call her because she was being watched. She outlined that the riots had put a stop to everything, that she was on lockdown in a posh hotel, that she hadn’t yet been introduced to her Match and she didn’t know when that was going to happen. Because the shuttle at Heathrow was destroyed, all shuttle flights from the UK had been suspended. She finished by begging him for more time, adding that she might be able to steal a translator from someone at the hotel, as she’d seen a few around, but only once they let her out of her room.

  It took Crastor a little while to reply, and when he did, he was characteristically terse.

  3 days. Keep me updated.

  That was one weight off her shoulders.

  Next, she called Nell.

  “Asha, bloody hell, couldn’t you have called me earlier? I’ve been worrying all day.”

  “I’m fine, Nell. I’m home. Took a bit of creativity to get out of the city, but it was alright. Didn’t get into any trouble.”

  Which was not exactly the truth, but Asha wasn’t about to try to put the reality of her day into words, especially not over the phone.

  “Thank god Mikey can’t ever leave the house on time, hey?” Nell said, a quiver of emotion in her voice.

  “Believe me, I’ve never been more glad to hear you were running late.”

  Nell laughed, a short, sharp sound. More a release of emotion than amusement.

  “I’ve been watching it on the news,” she said. “They’ve smashed in all the shop windows.”

  “That’s not the worst of it,” Asha said. “I saw a load of people jumping on top of cars, dancing on them, would you believe?”

  “It feels like the whole city is holding its breath, waiting to see what the night’s going to bring, don’t you think?”

  Asha glanced out of her bedroom window at the wilderness beyond. “It’s not so bad out here,” she said. “Mal said he’d put you and Mikey up for a couple of days if things are still bad tomorrow.”

  “I think I might take him up on that,” Nell said. “I’ve locked the house up and I know it’s not likely anything will kick off here, but… I don’t like being on my own while things are so crazy.”

  “Changing your mind about swearing off men?” Asha said.

  Nell’s laugh sounded a little more genuine. “Maybe. Maybe a cute doctor wouldn’t be the right sort, though. Perhaps I need to find a cute bouncer.”

  “I don’t think there’s such a thing.”

  Asha called Marta next, who answered the phone with a shrill, “Thank God for that, you’re not dead!”

  “I’m not dead, no,” Asha said, a slight lump returning to her throat. “It was a pretty close thing, but I’m fine. We’re not hurt.”

  Marta made a sound low in her throat, half growl, half sob. “I just kept thinking over and over ‘you told her to get on that shuttle you silly cow, it’s your fault.’”

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Asha said. “I’m okay.” She grimaced. “Well, I’m pretty fucking far from okay, but physically I’m not hurt.”

  “Eh, you were never okay mentally to start with,” Marta said, her voice still catching.

  Asha laughed, even as a few tears escaped.

  “Where are you now?” Marta asked after a moment, her voice more steady now, but still slightly throaty.

  “I’ve taken the motorhome out to a campsite we used to go to as kids. Thought it was probably best to get out of the city.”

  “You mean you wouldn’t have been able to entertain His Royal Highness with Mal breathing down your neck?”

  “That was a consideration. Mostly, I just didn’t think I’d be able to relax if we stayed within the city limits. There’s no one here. Literally no one. I might actually be able to get some sleep if I can stop thinking about that shuttle exploding right in front of my eyes.”

  “Was it bad?” Marta asked, a hesitancy in her voice that Asha had never heard before. “I timed it out, it must have been a pretty close thing.”

  “We were on the road heading towards it. It was close enough that we felt the heat of the explosion.”

  Asha’s heart started racing just thinking about it. That sharp burnt smell, the almost painful blast of heat across her face. Much closer and it might have blown the windscreen out.

  “I think my ears are still ringing a little bit,” she said, aiming for a laugh, but landing at a choking sob.

  “Shit, Ash, I’m so sorry. I wish I was there and could give you a hug.”

  Asha swiped away the tears with the back of her hand. “I think I need one.”

  A long pause, then, “Well, there is someone there who would probably be willing to oblige you.”

  “You’re terrible.”

  “You love me really.”

  “I do,” Asha said. “Can you get in touch with Superintendent Jackson again? Let the security team
know we’re still alive.”

  “You got it,” Marta said.

  The temptation to stay in bed, just close her eyes and try to pretend like the day had never happened, nearly overwhelmed her. But she dragged herself up, heading out from behind the small curtain that partitioned her room from the rest of the home.

  Cael was sitting at the table, flicking through one of her books. Watching him, it struck her how relaxed he looked. How... at home. He had to be used to far greater luxury, but he hadn’t shown any judgement. Not even a hint of an upturned nose.

  “Marta is going to get back on to the Superintendent now,” she said.

  “Thank you,” he said, rising from his seat. “Tarkken will be relieved to hear we’re not hurt.”

  “He’ll be relieved to hear you’re not hurt,” Asha said. “I don’t think he liked me very much. Wouldn’t even call me by my name.”

  To her surprise, Cael laughed. “Yes, he does that. Always calls me ‘sir’ no matter how many times I tell him it isn’t necessary. It’s out of respect, not dislike.” His grin faded, and he considered her, blue eyes searching. “How are you feeling?”

  “I...” She considered brushing everything off. Decided against it. “A bit fragile, honestly.”

  “I think that’s only natural.”

  Asha wrapped her arms around herself. “Marta was a bit freaked out. It reminded me that I’m a bit freaked out, too.”

  Cael stepped closer to her, touching a reassuring hand to her arm. Carefully distant, but steadying all the same.

  “I rather fear irreparable damage has been done to Marta’s impression of me,” he said, his eyes almost teasing, but not quite, as if he secretly feared it were true. “In one day of our acquaintance you’ve been caught in riots, forced to commit vehicle theft, fled from crowbar wielding maniacs and nearly blown up. I only hope the gift of my smashed up comm keeps her a little sweet towards me.”

  Asha nearly laughed, but a truth pressed against the tip of her tongue instead.

  “It’s my fault,” she said, voice catching. She cleared her throat, the confession ready to come tumbling from her mouth. “In the park... I was trying to get away from the bodyguards...”

  “Trying to escape to your sister and flee the city,” Cael said. “I figured that was the reason you seemed so determined to get away.”

  “If I hadn’t been trying to...”

  Cael shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Asha.”

  He stepped closer to her again. She could sense him itching to hold her and her own body crying out to be held. Rather than resisting it, she leaned in, resting her head against his shoulder.

  His arms went around her, warm and strong as they drew her close. He wasn’t a big guy - not like the musclebound bodyguards that protected him. But there was a solidness to him, an undefinable presence that went beyond just the size and shape of him. She felt safe, she realised. In his arms, she felt safe.

  It didn’t hurt that he smelled delicious, a scent that she couldn’t relate easily to any Earthen counterparts. Something masculine, something alien. She took a deep breath - letting that tantalising scent fill her lungs. It soothed her, her heart rate slowing as her breathing evened out, her mind clearing of all the clamour and stress, focusing instead on this single moment and how it felt to be held by him.

  Good. It felt really, really good.

  With a measure of reluctance, she drew back, using the sleeve of her top to dab her eyes dry.

  “I promise I don’t normally break down all the time,” she said. “It’s not just today, either. I’m just... exhausted, I guess. Been burning the candle at both ends.”

  “Remind me what that one means?” Cael said, a flash of amusement in his eyes.

  “Working too hard. I just need to sleep for about a week. But thank you. I do feel a bit better now.”

  “Any time,” he said, a little half smile curling up the corners of his lips.

  “I’m going to see what culinary delights Mal has found for us,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve got any clothes that would fit you, but, if you wanted to take a shower or anything, the bathroom’s just through there. It’s terrible. The water’s cold about half the time, and half the time the pressure drops right off. If you’re really lucky they don’t both happen at once. But, ah, knock yourself out.”

  Cael’s grin was brief, but wide. “I don’t think I’m going to forget that one after today.” He dragged his hand over his hair. “I would appreciate a shower.”

  Asha found him a spare towel, then set about distracting herself from the fact that only a small internal wall stood between her and his nakedness by ferreting through the bag of supplies Mal had given her. It was all junk - crisps and chocolate bars and other things in packets with sell by dates that stretched into infinity. At the bottom, she found a few packets of instant noodles that looked like they hadn’t been anywhere near a vegetable in their life, but then again, a shot of carbohydrate and salt was probably exactly what she needed.

  When Cael reappeared a moment later, redressed in his clothes, but otherwise fresh, Asha was just serving up. She’d set the small dining table with her mismatching cutlery and the only two cups she had - a pair of garish plastic beakers. Cael took a seat and she set a bowl of instant noodles down in front of him, a bowl of crisps in the table between them.

  “This is probably the worst food you’ve ever eaten,” she said. “Probably the worst setting, too. But…” She reached into the back of one of her cupboards, plucking out an old citronella candle that had probably been there since the last time the motorhome had been driven somewhere. “…I do have a candle. Okay, it’s a bug one. But I kind of like the smell.”

  She lit it, setting it down in the middle of the table between them. It didn’t do much to lift the meal up, but it was something, the soft, flickering light at least improving the atmosphere a little.

  “Well, you were right about the shower being… an experience,” Cael said as they tucked in to their food.

  “That’s a very polite way of putting it,” Asha said. “How are the noodles?”

  Cael looked down at his bowl. “I’d hesitate to describe them as edible…”

  Asha laughed. “God, I’m so sorry.”

  He grinned back at her. “Don’t be. Left to my own devices in the kitchen, I doubt I could produce anything better.”

  “I suppose you have staff for that… kind of…” she trailed off, eyes snagging on his hair, which had at some point since him going for a shower started to move of its own accord. “Does your hair always do that?”

  Cael ran his fingers through it, looking a little sheepish. “I was advised by a Human stylist that I might come across better if it didn’t. That the more Human I looked the more relatable I would be. I’ve been trapping it with gel and spray for every Human function I’ve attended since.”

  “Of course,” Asha said, rolling her eyes. “Make the alien look less alien so the poor Humans don’t get freaked out. It’s okay if you’re from a whole other galaxy, as long as you look like we do.”

  “You don’t agree with their advice?” Cael asked, arching a brow.

  “Why should you have to change who you are to suit our delicate sensibilities?” Asha said. “It’s just like this guy who was rude to Cribishk at the hotel… Makes me so angry. It’s the twenty-first century. You think by now we’d be done judging people for what they look like.”

  A smile spread across Cael’s face, slow but brilliant, an almost painful reminder of his breathtaking handsomeness. Asha couldn’t deny that the sight of him smiling did funny things to her insides and sent heat straight to her core.

  “You don’t mind it, then?” he said, once again running a hand over his hair.

  “It’s… kind of hypnotic,” Asha said, watching the way it swayed like grass in a gentle breeze. “You look… better,” she finished lamely. “In my opinion. For what it’s worth.”

  “Would you believe me if I told you your opinion is wort
h rather a lot to me,” he said, gaze suddenly intense and serious. Heat bloomed under Asha’s collar, creeping up her neck and into her face.

  A vibrating sound cut through the tension, a message arriving on her phone. She picked it up, reading the text on screen, grateful for the distraction.

  Message delivered. I’ve given your number to grumpy security alien so he can contact you direct.

  “Message from Marta,” she said, handing her phone to Cael.

  He glanced at it. “‘Grumpy security alien’?”

  “He is kind of grumpy.”

  “True.” Cael looked at the phone a moment longer. Then, suddenly, his face brightened. “Who’s this?” he asked, turning the phone to her.

  He was looking at her screensaver - a picture she’d taken with Mikey a few weeks ago. In it, she was pressing a kiss to his cheek and he was grinning up at the camera, little hands clasped together as if he were up to something devious. It was one of her favourite pictures of him.

  “That’s Mikey, my nephew. He’s four.” She took the phone from him, opening up the photo app before sliding it back in front of him, flicking through a few different pictures. “He loves taking selfies. Every time I babysit we end up taking loads. My phone’s full of them.”

  “May I?” Cael asked, indicating the phone.

  “Sure. There’s nothing dodgy on there. Well, maybe a few pictures of us with the horrible filters on.” She laughed. “Any other day, they might be enough to give a person nightmares.”

  He picked the phone up, scrolling through the photos, his smile growing a little wider with each flick of his thumb across the screen. Then, his smile went, replaced by a frown. He turned the phone to her, showing her the picture. It was one she’d taken just the day before - Mikey holding his finished masterpiece.

  “Oh,” she said, smiling. “That’s me. As a frog. Being chased by a witch on a broomstick, who is being shot by aliens with lasers.”