Navaa practically huffs. “We’ve already gone over this. We came to a consensus. The Orsalines cannot be swayed.”
“Most likely that is true,” Ezra admits. “But they are easily manipulated. I’m just suggesting the possibility of redirecting that manipulation. They’ve been drugged—we’ve got drugs. They’ve been brainwashed—we can do that sort of thing, too.”
“Actually, Ezra,” I say in Faida, turning my head to the rest of the group, “that’s not a terrible idea. The problem is volume. I’m sure given enough time, we could turn them, but how many could we get to switch sides given our resources? We need thousands, not dozens.”
“I’d be happy with a dozen that belong to us,” Sidra says unexpectedly. “A dozen Orsalines could do a lot of damage from the inside. Sabotage, counterintelligence, discreet propaganda. We should at least see for ourselves if such a thing is possible.”
Navaa exhales one long single breath that seems to go on for longer than necessary. “Because the Orsalines are particularly dim-witted and I feel confident that we can elude them on a mission, I suppose we should go.”
“Agreed,” I tell her enthusiastically. “We have to exhaust every option and go down every road, even if leads to a dead end.”
“I can scout locations for possible entry points and create a mission brief with Sidra, Donav, Yessenia, and Ezra,” Levi offers. “I’d say we’d be ready to go in less than forty-eight hours.” I look at him and he is already on his tablet. His fingers nimbly crawl all over the illuminated panel. When Navaa closes the meeting, I am still staring. Even when Levi is doing nothing very interesting, he still looks so capable . . . so strong. It’s the sound of the chairs being rolled back, of creaking wheels, that makes me look away. I look up and everyone is gone but Sidra, who gives me just a sliver of a smile as she eyes Levi’s now empty chair. She is a master spy and a woman. It’s not like she wouldn’t know exactly what’s going on.
I take dinner that night in my own room. I have purposely spent as many meals as I can in the common dining area because I felt like it was good for morale and for helping to cement our relations with the Faida. Tonight, though, I thought I would try to watch a holographic Faida movie on my own. Really, I just wanted an evening alone where I didn’t have to make any decisions or deal with the old (literal) song and dance routine of having to open a Rift with Navaa. I start watching a film that Arif has suggested. It’s about a female racer who injures her wings and can’t fly again. It’s good to know that some tropes are truly universal. It’s not a bad movie, it’s just a little boring—that is, until the love scene. I am actually shocked because I’m almost 100 percent certain that these actors are actually having sex on camera. Very loud, very enthusiastic sex . . . and since it’s a holographic projection it looks as though they are right in front of me. I’m pretty sure that Arif is not a perv, which probably means this is just how they do things here in the movies. I’m not turned on as much as fascinated. I tilt my head sideways as they change positions and my mouth is kind of locked agape.
And then I hear a knock on the door.
I leap out of my seat because, although it’s not like I did anything wrong here, still, porn. Then I decide that no, I’m not going to be puritanical about this. This is a Faida movie and if they aren’t weird about it, then I shouldn’t be, either. I open the door where Levi is standing, staring at me with his arms crossed. He looks behind me at the two lifelike figures going at it and even though my face is flushed, I lift my chin in greeting as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to have two angels screwing in the background.
“I can hear that, you know,” he informs me.
I open the door wider and gesture for him to enter. “I’m learning that the Faida are a very literal people. Not a lot of make-believe with them.” Still wearing a skeptical look on his face, he warily steps inside my room.
“So this is art? Not porn?” he asks with a cheeky smile.
“I feel like it’s probably both. Why don’t you just come in and sit down. I’ll turn this off.” While it’s true I had wanted to be alone tonight, I didn’t quite realize what I really meant was that I wanted some space from everyone besides Levi. He’s the one person here who being with doesn’t feel like a chore or an obligation. I turn the movie off and he sits down on a bench in front of the tall bed. “So,” he fishes. When I don’t say anything, his green eyes scrutinize me. “What’s up? I only wanted you to turn down the moaning, but you invited me in,” Levi says, chuckling at his own joke.
“Yeah, no. I guess when I saw you I just wanted to . . .”—I pause and look up at the cathedral ceiling. There are never any cobwebs. Maybe they don’t have spiders on this Earth. Interesting—“check in. We haven’t really spent any time together lately. Or talked. We haven’t tried any deprogramming.”
Levi rubs his palms over his jeans. I notice that somewhere along the way, he cut his hair. It’s not as short as usual, but it’s back up above his collar.
“I don’t know, Ryn. Last time we tried that I practically broke your foot and threatened to pull your guts out. I’m thinking probably we shouldn’t try anything else while we’re here.” This is, of course, a sensible plan. Still . . .
“I get that,” I assure him as I sit beside him on the bench. “But, ever since the Daithi Earth, I’ve felt this weird . . .” I begin to move my hands, circling them as if they were the motor that could get my train of thought going. “It’s not emptiness. Well, sometimes it is, but I guess it’s a kind of powerlessness? Like, I know I won’t ever stop fighting, but I’m not sure anymore when I’m actually fighting. The battles aren’t just physical, right? And I don’t know how to wrap my brain around the idea that just being here is part of the war because I don’t really feel like I’m doing anything.”
Levi nods his head slowly. “You can hum a Rift open. You and Navaa are calling most of the shots when it comes to strategy, but I understand that given how we were trained, it still probably feels pretty static.”
“Look,” I tell him, fighting the urge to put my hands on him, not just to convince him, but because he’s so solid, so completely here. “I totally understand, given what happened last time, why you wouldn’t want to try again, but I really want to fix this for you. I want this to be one less thing we need to worry about it.”
Levi looks at me, but then his eyes search the room for an answer. He must not be able to find one, because eventually they land on my face once more. And I see it. The conflict. He doesn’t want to hurt me. He doesn’t want the Faida to see that side of him again, but he also wants to be able to touch me. It’s a powerful need, the urge to put your hands on someone you have feelings for and to let them touch you in return. It trumps common sense and reason. Levi and I, we live in the dark. We breathe in shadows and the exhaust of blood and violence. To be able to lay your head down on the chest of someone dear, to wrap your arms around them, is like a different kind of homecoming.
“I have some red pills in my Dopp kit in the bathroom,” I tell him smoothly.
“Okay,” he tells me with a voice that is equal parts excitement and resignation. Levi disappears for a minute or two and returns to sit beside me on the bench. I flash him a slow, secret smile and walk to the closet. I know he is watching me, and I also know there is no point in being coy. We’re beyond that now. I tell my sensuit to cuff and I am naked, with my back to him. I reach into the closet and pull out my uniform. Of course it’s typical with me, that instead of taking my clothes off to get things started, I need to put mine on.
I step inside one leg, bending slightly to wrestle my foot in. Then I repeat the action on the other side, bending down just a little more. I arch my back to slide my arms in and zip up the uniform as I turn around.
“I feel like that movie you were watching has given you ideas,” he tells me with a sideways grin.
“Only if you’ve suddenly grown a pair of wings. Talk about suspension.” We both laugh at that and it eases a bit of the tensio
n, though not completely and I’m glad of it. I kind of like how it’s filling the space between us, how it’s heating the air and making my neck sweat a little, just under the fabric. I sit on the chair opposite him and put some music on. It’s some old band that’s on Levi’s list of safe things. I think that it’s stuff that his mom likes and listens to. His mom is featured a lot on the list and I know he feels weird about it. Still, in order to get him to feel safe, he has to get his senses to trigger nostalgia and security.
We wait in heightened silence. We stare at each other, long, languid gazes that make me bite my bottom lip and then our eyes break away to focus on something less intense. After fifteen minutes or so, he slides down the bench, getting on all fours, crawling over to me slowly. In turn, I lean back in my chair. When he gets to my legs, he rears up on his knees. It is imperative that I don’t appear anxious or excited. For this to work, I must seem docile, compliant. If he in any way feels threatened, this will go very badly.
Again.
I stay perfectly still as he runs his hands up both shins to my thighs. He looks straight at me when he swiftly spreads them open like two green butterfly wings. The shock of this one, heated action makes me exhale loudly, but still, I do not move. He brings his face down and gently nuzzles his cheek on the inside of the fabric above my knee. He moves his head up and to the left, so that he is entirely between my legs. I want to run my hands through his hair and ball it into my fists, but I can’t. Instead, I grit my teeth. Then, I feel his hot breath through my uniform. Who knew that just breathing in that one place could feel so incredible?
Levi puts both his hands over my own and lifts himself up slowly, dragging his face along the middle of my body. Ever so gently, he licks the front of my neck before he reaches my mouth. He kisses me hard and deep. His tongue flickers in and out of my mouth, tasting me and letting me taste him. My eyes are closed, and when he pulls away, I think he must want to put me in another position, on the floor maybe . . .
When I do open my lids, I can see that his face is an inch from my own and his eyes are blazing . . . with anger. I silently curse myself for making him do this. Clearly, the last time must have done more damage than I thought. In a flash, his hands are wrapped around my throat. He tips the chair back and both of us spill onto the floor. He handily slides me along the wood, away from the furniture.
This is the moment, right here. This is where I prove how far I’m willing to go, for him, for all of us. He could crush my windpipe in a second, but he is taking his time, savoring his sudden hatred. I keep my lids open, focused solely on him. I can’t breathe. I feel a sudden flash of shame when I admit to myself that there is a small part of me that is relieved.
I am tired.
The road ahead seems impassable. I meant it when I said that I would never stop fighting. But if I’m dead, I won’t have to fight anymore. If I die now, I won’t have to bear witness to watching the people I care about die, many of whom most certainly will.
I had my few moments in the sun and now night is coming on. My vision is starting to fail, darkness is beginning to bleed into my periphery. I let my entire body go slack. I am probably going to die. I wonder briefly if I have a soul, and where it will go. We are made of energy, and energy cannot be destroyed, only transformed. Will whatever I turn into find its way back to my own Earth? As a Kir-Abisat, will I become part of a Rift?
The only thing that really keeps me present is Levi. If he does this to me, if he kills me, I don’t think he’ll ever recover. The Faida alliance might shatter. Everyone in Battle Ground is at risk. I probably should have thought of all that before. Levi keeps staring at me and all I can do is plead with my eyes. He has me. He’s won. I won’t hurt him.
Just as I begin to black out, his pupils change and lose their focus. He shakes his head as if waking from a dream. Immediately he takes his hands away from my neck. I take one gasping breath, filling my lungs with air. A single tear slides away from Levi’s eye. It runs down his cheek like an escaped prisoner and lands on my chin.
“Don’t,” I croak. The pain of speaking is excruciating. I want to say Don’t worry, don’t think I can’t handle this, don’t move, don’t run. I can’t get out any of those words, though. All I can do is take lumbered, shallow breaths.
Levi slides his hand under my shoulders and lifts me up into an embrace. “I am so sorry, Ryn,” he begins to repeat. It is only then, in that moment, that I realize what he hasn’t.
Levi stopped.
There’s only one way on this Earth or any other that a Citadel can stop at the height of the Blood Lust, and that is to have the link with the Blood Lust broken.
I reach up and put a finger to his mouth. “Shhhhh,” I tell him, my voice trembling. “Don’t you feel it? It’s gone, Levi. Look. Think. It’s not there anymore.” Because that’s how it is. The Blood Lust is always lurking, always right on the other side of an imaginary door ready to spring, but when it’s gone, its lack of presence is just as visceral.
I watch this revelation transform Levi’s face. First, he’s recollecting, mentally sifting, and then, when he understands that I’m right, he opens his mouth and lets out a deep breath that begins and ends from the well of his entire spirit. He makes a sound like I’ve never heard. It’s a mournful cry, ecstatic anguish.
I hold him closer to me and he picks me up off the floor and lays me on the bed. He slowly unzips my uniform and wrangles me out of it. I use my cuff to clothe me in the soft, buttery cotton the SenMachs have created. The loose sweatpants and oversized T-shirt are a cocoon of comfort and I shrug and snuggle inside them.
Levi brings up the covers and tucks me in before going back into the bathroom. When he returns, he has a Roone ice pack that he must have gotten from my med kit. Because it’s Roonish, it doesn’t need to be frozen. He simply breaks the seal and the chemicals inside instantly dip below freezing. He takes off his shirt and wraps the pack inside of it before gently placing it on my neck.
Levi undresses, but he leaves his shorts on. He walks over to the other side of the bed and slides in, under the covers. I understand why he needs to be close to me like this right now. This isn’t desire. This isn’t about sex. I roll onto my side and he curls his body around me. His touch is light. His limbs are a layer of autumn leaves falling almost weightless around my stomach. His embrace is filled with both regret and hope. I pull him closer. I understand. Finally, he feels safe.
So do I.
Chapter 14
Ultimately, after much debate, we all agree that this first visit to the Orsalines will be strictly recon. Even if the opportunity presents itself to take a few of them with us, we will not. Sidra wants a working cell inside the Orsaline base. If we snatch a dozen bears, or whatever they are, they will most certainly be missed. What we are hoping for is some kind of insight into how they work as a group. Do they take time off? Do they live on or off the base? Do they get transferred? Are they ever sent through the Rift? Sidra needs a plausible way of reprogramming a cell of Orsalines away from their Earth where, somehow, they won’t be missed.
It’s a tall order.
Because this is strictly recon, and because we only have four sensuits, we all decide that it would be best to keep the unit small. Me and Levi, Arif and Navaa. Using the SenMach technology, we can be invisible, observing from close range, and that’s what we need.
Our improved QOINS system delivers us exactly where we want to be, just one mile from the Orsaline base. Invisibility is a huge tactical advantage, but it also leads to another problem. No one can see us, which is great, but we can’t see each other, either. We can communicate via our earpieces, but that’s not exactly ideal when you’re trying to be stealthy. Levi and I can get a pretty good sense of proximity if we use our enhanced hearing to listen for each other’s heartbeats and breathing. The Faida will have to stick to more conventional methods. They will have to keep their heads down and watch our footprints make their way through the cracked mud and sluggish brown grass.
We are not kitted out for this kind of weather. The sensuits can insulate us a fair bit, but not enough. From the first moments our lungs begin to take in the frigid air, Levi and I keep to our training. We both start breathing in short, panting breaths. We begin to run in place as fast as we can. It’s imperative that we keep our heart rates up and circulation going. This will burn more calories and we will have to be mindful of our nutrition, but we have no choice. I assume the Faida can bring their wings around their bodies. Must be nice, being an angel.
We make a collective run toward the base, following Doe’s instructions via our earpieces. We’ve kept things light today, no big packs, just tiny ones holding our essentials, secured tightly under the suits.
When we see the base in a valley below us, the shock of it jolts me to a standstill. I assumed, of course, there would be some sort of structure, but I was thinking basic, like maybe a fortified shack with rough and rounded boulders. What I couldn’t have imagined was a massive, sprawling temple made of stone with towers and turrets and separate courtyards between wings. It’s far more Shaolin Monastery than primitive Citadel stronghold.
The Rift Coda Page 14
