by Li Hill
"I'll tell him," Iilo said. "He's weird, but I trust him. I want to talk to Inaraa about all this too. Especially if we're gonna have FBI hanging around our spires."
When they left, Tom felt lighter. He'd spoken to Sam. They'd learned something. The pieces were slow to come together, but it was happening. He just hoped Agent Parker could do something more about it.
Chapter Thirteen
Standing outside the Elect's house, Tom felt as if eyes were everywhere, watching him to see if he'd break something else important. He had his hand in the cookie jar and now the whole community knew it. The FBI was partly his responsibility—Iilo too—but the I'na blamed him. He could see it in their sneers. Sam and Carlos came with him this time, a welcome presence under the circumstances. Inaraa and Iilo were inside, fighting about the FBI and the investigation.
A breeze tickled his ears, the sun shining over the jagged spires that climbed into the air like animals stepping over each other in a stampede. Harsh shadows grew on the ground, lapping at Tom's feet. He shuffled, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Do you think they're winning?" Carlos asked.
"I'm not in there," Tom pointedly reminded him.
He abandoned where they'd been standing and climbed the stairs to the door. He wasn't violating any rules by standing close to the house. He leaned his head toward the door and could just barely make out the sounds of raised voices.
Sam and Carlos both scrambled up the steps. The old Victorian moaned and howled beneath their feet.
"Sounds heated," Sam said. She pressed herself against the door and listened in with a hand cupped over her ear.
"We're gonna get in so much trouble," Tom said. He gave up and pushed his head against the door beneath Sam's. "Inissa hates me already."
"Their Heart?" Carlos asked when he put his head next to Tom's. "I can't hear. Move over!"
"Shut up!" Sam hissed. "They're not even speaking English."
"Can you understand it?" Carlos asked.
"A little. Now shut up."
Muffled voices wafted between the door, never close enough for him to decipher the tone. He cupped his ear, gasping when things were a tiny bit clearer.
"Scou'luu'nae, please!" Inarra's voice.
"What in shit-fuck are you three doing?"
The trio fell over themselves, scrambling to stand up and look like they hadn't just been caught red-handed.
Letic stood there, his brow cocked, and his arms crossed. He wore a leather jacket with sharp spikes on the shoulders.
"We're trying to be nosy," Tom said, because there was absolutely no point in lying to Letic. He'd stare it out of Tom anyway. "But we can't understand them."
"I could've tried if you two weren't breathing down my neck." Sam put a hand on her hip, lips pressed into a line.
"Move," Letic said. His boots should've echoed against the wood, but he moved effortlessly, a silent assassin in the night.
They cleared the way, and Letic pressed up against the door. He cupped both hands around his ear and listened.
Tom bit his lip to keep from laughing. They were children. It was a terrible, terrible situation and lives were literally threatened, but they were children, listening in while the adults bickered about what to do. The comedy in it wasn't something Tom could ignore. He snorted, looking up at Carlos.
Carlos smiled back, his shimmering eyes conveying everything Tom was thinking.
"Scou'luu'nae doesn't want you here. Doesn't want human who not on a," he paused, his struggle to translate apparent on his face, "list. Make us safer this way."
"Well that sounds—super stupid," Carlos whispered.
"Could also help us figure out which humans are fucking with the I'na," Sam said. "If the Elect's bought, then of course they'd let the guy keep doing his thing, right?"
"Bought, corrupt?" Letic asked.
"I think there's a chance if they're really going to fight the FBI investigation like this and make a human-approval list." Sam had a point though: if they weren't allowed on I'na grounds, then the ones who were had a higher chance of being the guy they'd been after. All the FBI had to do was lay low and watch from afar. It was almost easier this way.
"They're totally bought." Carlos stared at the porch. "Those kids called it, man."
"This could work," Tom said. "If Sam's right? This could work out."
Letic cringed. He opened his mouth to speak, but Inaraa and Iilo walked out. Inaraa's face was pink. She marched down the porch steps and didn't say a word.
Iilo looked at Tom, and Tom's heart shattered. Iilo's irises were tight and dim. He grabbed Tom's hand and then promptly let it go when Inissa walked out.
Inissa looked at the humans, her face screwed up in disgust. She looked to Iilo, a long finger pointed at him like she'd pointed at Tom.
"They will be leaving. All of them."
"But Tom's—"
"Oul na we gat, Iilo!"
Tom didn't need a translation to know she'd just told him off. Her teeth were exposed and ready to strike. She looked exactly like the I'na had the night of First Contact. When no one stirred, Inissa lunged forward, and Tom could hear something snap behind his eyes.
The world moved too fast, spinning and spinning all around him. The sky rolled into the ground. Tom swayed, his stomach attempting to shove itself up into his throat. He felt himself lifted into the air.
He didn't have to see them to know they were there. The world spiraled out of control, gravity gone, the sun gone. Tom was left with nothing but his gun and the I'na that chased him.
"I gotchu," Carlos said. "Just hang on, man."
Tom gripped his gun harder, sweat pushing from his temples. He shivered, the world cold when it should've been hot. Carlos kept talking, but Tom wasn't hearing. A howl screamed into his ears. He closed his eyes, exhaustion and fear overpowering his senses.
Cold washed over his face. Ice against his throat. Tom swatted the hand away, and the ice cube slipped down along his collarbone. He blinked, looking around him. He was in the backseat of a car, Caleb, Carlos, and Sam with him.
"Did I miss the fight?" Tom's eyes rounded. "I didn't get hit, did I?!"
"Tom," Caleb said. "There's no fight. You got triggered. You're at the Seward Settlement. Inissa shoved you."
"Inissa?" No, something didn't feel right. He had to stay. His mission wasn't over. "No. I can't leave. There's, um, there's a—"
"It's okay," Carlos said. "I've got watch. You just get some sleep."
"I'm not dying, am I?" Tom looked down, frowning when he saw a plaid button-down and not his uniform. "Oh shit. Oh shit, I slipped."
"Yeah," Caleb said. The weight in his voice settled under Tom's sternum. He used to smile so easily; now the corners of his mouth had worry lines. His face was older. Caleb, the ever-smiling, was scowling. This wasn't war. This was what war had left of the people who faced it.
"Fuck." Tom tried to swallow, but his tongue was too sticky. He coughed, curling up into himself. His car. He was in his car. Right. "This is my car."
"Yeah," Carlos said. "That's right."
"Where are you, Tom?" Sam asked.
Tom blinked, grimacing when the answer didn't come to him. He remembered his rearview mirror. He'd put his graduation tassel there. It swung when he moved. He sat up slowly, taking a cup of water when Sam offered it. The water coated his throat, a salve to his sticky tongue. He looked at his team. Carlos's hair hung in wavy curtains around his cheeks. Sam wore a sharp dress instead of fatigues. Caleb's hair was slicked back.
"Where's Iilo?" Tom asked.
"Oh, thank God." Sam cupped Tom's face, pulling his head to her stomach. She held him tight, patting the back of his head.
"I'm here," Iilo said. He'd been hiding behind Caleb and Carlos. "They said it wasn't a good idea for me to get near you like that."
"I'm sorry," Tom said. "I didn't mean to." His body quaked. He hadn't meant for this to happen, and in front of Iilo. It was embarrassing enough when it was friends or f
amily, but Iilo? Iilo had been on the other side once. It had to have cut deep seeing Tom reaching for a gun that didn't exist. Saying—whatever he'd said. Tom used to use slurs to describe I'na. He hadn't said them since the war, but he wasn't sure he hadn't done it now.
"I know." Iilo didn't reach out to touch him. He didn't step forward. He planted himself too far away. All Tom wanted to do was reach his arms around him, to apologize a million times over that this had happened here. He hadn't felt a genuine terror like that since before he'd met Iilo.
"I'm so sorry," Tom said again, staring up at Iilo. "God, I'm so sorry."
Sam ran her fingers through Tom's sweaty hair. "You're back. That's what matters most. And no one got hurt."
Carlos and Caleb stepped out of the way, and Iilo moved forward. He cupped Tom's face, guiding Tom's head around with his fingers. He was checking for something, dirt or damage maybe. Tom let him. He'd missed Iilo's fingers on his face.
"You scared me," he said.
"I know." Tom's body shivered, fighting the last bits of adrenaline that still raced through his veins. He wanted to vomit. He'd been standing on the porch and then he wasn't. He'd seen Inissa and then she was gone. The only thing left were the shadows in Tom's head—memories that refused to die.
He pushed his face into Iilo's chest, breathing him in. Iilo smelled like Dove body wash and fresh cotton. His skin was soft, pliant and breakable. How was Tom supposed to face the family of the I'na he'd killed when he couldn't even keep it together? He'd terrified Iilo. They couldn't be together when Tom broke so easily. He didn't even know if Iilo wanted them to be together. Everything was just going so wrong.
Tom held onto Iilo, afraid that if he let go he'd spin away into darkness again, and he hated that fear. He hated the memories that clouded into his mind and showed him tricks and scurrying feet.
"You feel better?" Iilo asked.
"Yeah."
"Let's get you home, huh?" Caleb helped Tom out of the back and into the driver's seat. At least Tom wasn't responsible for driving it.
"Where'd you come from?" Tom asked. "Or am I dreaming you still?"
"Nah. I showed up when Carlos was dragging your ass over here."
If angels were real, Tom was certain Carlos was one.
"You still wanna do lunch?" Tom asked.
"Yeah, man." Caleb patted Tom's knee. "How's Saturday sound?"
"Great."
Carlos and Sam piled into the car, both quiet. Tom didn't like this part. He got to be the fragile doll, broken and shattered, and they got to tip toe around the pieces. Tom squeezed his stomach, wincing. He looked up to see Iilo standing by Caleb, his face sheet white.
"I'll be okay," Tom said. "I just need to sleep it off."
Iilo nodded. "I'll see you soon?"
"Please."
When Tom confirmed his destination, the car rolled away. No one spoke the whole way home. Either they were too exhausted, angry, or ashamed. Maybe they felt all of it; Tom knew he did. He'd made a fool of himself in front of the Seward I'na, and, with that, any trust he could've built was gone.
He leaned his head back against the headrest and willed his brain to just stop.
Chapter Fourteen
On Saturday, Tom sat in a booth with a red checkered table cloth, Carlos to one side, Sam in the corner, and Caleb right across from him. The restaurant had crappy food, but the atmosphere was fun enough to keep people coming. Charming and honest. No one cared how tacky the walls were or that the jukebox didn't work.
Caleb's hair was neatly combed back, his five o'clock shadow somehow making him look more put together than disheveled. He had a Rolex watch. Tom groaned at how much that would've cost. Paying student loans back was a bitch. He couldn't imagine how it'd be without his VA benefits. He started coming up with hypothetical price tags for the watch, his stomach flipping each time he pushed the number a little higher. Legal Aid hadn't paid more than thirty-thousand a year. Being a solo practitioner now, sometimes Tom felt like he earned even less.
"You okay there, buddy?" Caleb sunk down in the seat to meet Tom's eyes.
"Oh yeah. I'm good. How—how much did that watch cost?"
"It's last year's model. I'm just waiting on my custom one. Like it? You can have it once I get that one."
"What?" Carlos and Tom both exclaimed.
Sam's brows about escaped into her hairline.
"I mean, I won't need it anymore. What? Why're you all looking at me like that?" Caleb sported a crooked smile, one Tom wasn't sure was meant to make everyone settle down or if he knew exactly why they were looking at him like this, but he wanted to hear the answer anyway.
"Dude," was Sam's reply.
Tom felt that summed it up perfectly. People starved in Africa, and Caleb thought about just giving away watches because they were last year's model. He smiled to himself; there was the Tom he used to be. Always vigilant, always angry. A fighter.
"So, tell me about Iilo and you." Caleb's smile morphed into something positively sinister. "He almost decked their Heart for you."
"Oh, we're friends." Tom slumped against the table, nearly knocking over his lemonade. He could hear Sam sniggering.
"Dude, I don't think you two are just friends. But I get it, dating's hard. Throw in the cultural background differences and that's one confusing relationship." Caleb waggled his brows.
"It's not that. We haven't even talked about it." Tom dropped his head against the table.
"Tom likes Iilo. And I think Iilo likes him too," Sam said, nudging Tom in the ribs.
"Yeah!" Carlos's cheerful voice floated to Tom's ears. "You two got chemistry."
Tom also had a knot in his stomach and was deciding who to vomit on if they kept pushing the subject. They'd used to joke about relationships all the time or make up ideal significant others to date. It helped pass the time when they were terrified in the dark. But Iilo wasn't some fictional boyfriend. He was solid and as real as Tom. It made it scarier when the other person could say no.
"I think it's really cool. I'm glad you found someone. Honestly, and I'm gonna get real here, but I didn't expect any of us to get close to them after what happened. So you won't get any judgment from me, man. I hope it works out."
"Yeah—hey, that's my drink!" Tom snatched for his lemonade before Carlos could drink any more of it.
Unfortunately for him, Carlos was quicker. He took a big gulp and smacked his lips for show.
"Thief." Tom picked up his menu. Grilled cheese sounded just fine to him right about now. His stomach was still unsettled from what had happened at the settlement and from the nerves about opening up to Iilo about his feelings. He cringed, thinking about all the ways he'd frightened people. Children, adults. Iilo. The worry in Iilo's eyes was enough to make Tom's muscles tremble beneath his skin.
"Hey," Caleb reached across the table and grabbed Tom's wrist. "You've been doing a great thing. Getting the FBI involved was the right call."
"And Iilo's stupid into you," Sam teased. "I think he's just the cutest thing."
"All right, enough with the feelings. I just wanna eat." Actually, Tom wanted to go see Iilo. He needed to apologize. How was he supposed to trust himself again with Iilo? What if they did date, and what if they started spending the nights together and Tom woke up to glowing eyes? Blue skin? Maybe Tom just wasn't ready. But the thought of avoiding Iilo or abandoning his feelings made Tom's stomach only hurt worse.
"Tom's come a long way," Carlos said. "You should've seen him the first time Iilo walked into our office. Oh man! He was hyperventilating."
"I'm right here." He knew they only teased because they cared. But he would also pay anyone a giant sum of money if they'd just stop talking about him.
"Facing your fears head on is therapeutic. And Iilo's hot, so why not?" Caleb sat back, arms resting back on the top of the booth, head turning and casually bobbing as he scoped out the little dinner.
"It's more than just him being hot." Tom bristled. Objectively, the I'na as a spec
ies were beautiful with their shimmering skin. But the way Caleb reduced Iilo to his looks made Tom's heart pulse in his throat. And maybe Caleb hadn't meant it that way; he'd always been slow to catch on. That's what made him a good soldier. He took orders and smiled while he did it.
"For whatever reason, it is. I'm just glad you're living your life. Where's the waitress? Fuckin' starving." Caleb flagged her over with a clever smile.
Tom stared. That was not the man he remembered. This Caleb had money, and he made sure to use the Rolex on his wrist to catch the waitress' eye. He tossed his head to the side and made sure to touch his jaw when he spoke to her. He flirted, and she flirted back.
Tom stared in wide-eyed astonishment. Caleb was handsome, but Tom would've never ventured to guess he was also charming. He'd been the goofy guy who cracked jokes at the wrong times.
War had changed them all. Tom was still trying to figure out what kind of man Caleb had become.
When they got their food, Tom poked at his grilled cheese. He didn't want to be out anymore. He was exhausted and terribly aware of the amount of people in the place. Laughter hurt his ears. Carlos's elbow even made him jolt in his seat.
"So what do you do now, man?" Sam asked Caleb around a bite of cheeseburger.
"I work for BrightStart. It's a private weapons development company and big on clean, reusable energy."
"No shit! They made our, uh, those hats we wore, right?" Sam pointed to her head. "First Contact?"
"Yeah! It's crazy stuff, man. We learned a lot from the I'na, so now we're just taking that and running with it. But it's interesting work. BrightStart's really trying to get the I'na economy stimulated. Employs more I'na than any other private corporation."
"Good. I'm glad they're really working with the I'na," Sam said. "Lord knows we need more companies like that."
"So since you're a bigshot, you gonna buy lunch?" Carlos's grin was wide and full of itself.
