by Emma Alisyn
“Mila,” Dr. Strahler said. “How are you feeling today?”
The question wasn’t perfunctory. Part of the clinical trial included a weekly check in call between face-to-face appointments.
“I feel fine, Dr.,” Mila said. “Today’s been good.” Or at least the second half of the day, after Jaron’s infusion of energy.
Rebecca’s- the doctor insisted on being called by her first name, probably an attempt at a warm bedside manner- eyes flickered.
“You feel fine, Mila?”
Mila frowned, wondering why that was a problem. “Yeah. The morning started out a little iffy, but-”
“What time did you take your injection?”
“Around lunchtime, when the Adekhan let us have a break.”
“And you didn’t feel any of the usual side effects?”
Like dragging weariness, a mushy feeling in her mouth like her tongue was the consistency of applesauce. She had been feeling like that, but lately just being around Jaron seemed to counteract whatever problems the medication caused. Mila knew she couldn’t say anything about that, though, and felt a little guilty.
“Not… really.”
Because Jaron’s treatment was interfering with the doctors, Mila knew whatever data they gleaned from her as a test subject would be flawed. But, damnit. What other choice was there? She needed the extra money, was squirreling away any spare half credit she could. When she died, her mother would be alone- but at least she would be able to pay for basic food, clothing and shelter for the rest of her life.
Ayita was still young. Maybe one day her mind would heal and she could have a real family. Mila would never have a real family- but maybe her mother could.
“Alright. That could be a good sign, or a sign the medication is no longer working. I’d like you to come in for your appointment a few days early.”
Rebecca gave her a new date and time and signed off. Mila knew she’d have to be careful of what she said. Not just to avoid being kicked out of the program, but to avoid letting humans know that the Yadeshi were walking alien shamans.
The cell rang again just as she set it down, Mila snatched it back up as soon as she saw the caller ID.
“Yes?” Her fingers clenched the phone.
“Ms. Washington?”
“Yes, this is Mila Washington.”
“Ma’am, we’re calling to inform you that Ayita Washington checked herself out of the facility against doctor’s advisement two hours ago.”
Two hours… “You let her get a two-hour head start?”
“We apologize for the inconvenience; all documents have been properly signed. Have a nice evening.”
The called disconnected and Mila whirled, pausing long enough to grab her t-shirt and gym shoes. Jaron couldn’t be that far away.
She dialed his number, hoping he’d walked instead of driving the short distance from YETI to where she stayed.
“Mila?”
The sleek lines of his azure face filled the screen. “Jaron, I need your help.”
“I’m turning around.”
She waited in the parking lot, shifting from one foot to the other. Mila wanted to leave now, but knew where her mother had gone… it wouldn’t be smart to not have backup in the form of some kind of person scarier than her. Jaron was much scarier than shesemi.
“Mila, what’s wrong?”
She jumped, turning. Hadn’t heard him creep up. “I hate when you walk so quiet.”
His brow rose. “Mila.”
“Mom checked herself out again.”
He frowned. “Will she have gone to the same place as before?”
“The yellow house. Yes. Can you come with me? I don’t want to go alone.”
“Of course.” But he didn’t move, staring at her.
She couldn’t read the expression in his cool eyes, other than to be sure he was trying to figure out all the angles. That was the problem with scientists. They never stopped thinking.
“Ok, what is it?” she asked.
“You know I think your mother would be better off at YETI.”
“She’s better off where she says she’s better off. She has the right to make that choice, don’t you think?”
“The right to choose ends when her life destroys yours.”
It was a semi-old argument between them. “We can talk about it later. I don’t want her in that house.”
He reached out, taking her hand. Lifted her palm face up, studying the lines as if he could read her future. “I’ll help you- but this time there’s a price.”
Her skin tingled, despite sudden apprehension. “A… price? Jaron, you know I don’t have any money.”
He shook his head slowly, eyes glinting. “You’re deflecting. You know it’s not money I want.”
She opened her mouth, closed it. Damnit- if he’d been any other man, with the events of the day and his oddly intense behavior, she’d think… something she refused to think. Because even if there was hope for something more- she would be dead in a year. Two, tops.
“What do you want?” she asked, dreading the answer. Dreading having to tell a lie in order to get his help.
“A date.”
Mila blinked. “Well, that’s weird. What in the world would you do with dried fruit?”
His eyes narrowed. “Mila.”
Well, she’d had to try. Abandoning the pretense of misunderstanding, she tugged her hand. His fingers slid up her wrist, holding her fast.
“I’m not letting you go until you give me the answer I want.”
She scowled. “There’s a name for men who behave like this.”
Jaron laughed. “I don’t care about names. I care about results.”
“Fine, Jaron. You can have a date. I don’t know what you think we’re going to do with a date-”
“The usual things humans do.” He smiled, teeth sharp, voice a low, deepening croon. A promise. An uncivilized promise.
“Alright, let me go,” she said, tugging again, heart jumping. “You have drug dealers to beat up.”
He released her hand. “Oh, I don’t think it will come to that.”
***
The owner of the house was waiting for Mila- not for Jaron, of course. No one expected her to show up with a tall, blue Clark Kent in tow.
“Where is she?” Mila asked, shoving the front door open.
The lanky young woman who’d opened it a crack stumbled back, swearing. It was a bad sign Mila didn’t cough from the thick smoke- she’d become used to it over the years. If it was just a bunch of people chilling after work or otherwise minding their own business, she wouldn’t care. But Samson preyed on the most vulnerable people in the city- people with chronic pain or mental issues.
“Sam!”
She searched the downstairs rooms. There was a living area with vintage bean bag cushions and a flat screen- news, of all things. The dining room table was cluttered with paraphernalia, bowls and chips and players huddled around cards. Not seeing Ayita, she took the stairs to the second level two at a time. The people mostly ignored her- no one here cared about anything but their own business.
“Wonderful place,” Jaron said behind her. “The decor is especially stimulating.”
A Yadeshi joking about feng shui. Now her day was complete. Mila walked down a long hallway to a bedroom with its door half cracked. More noise from a television set, lights on low. Her mother curled up on a bed, asleep, Samson stretched beside her, vapor flowing from his lips as a remote dangled from his fingers. She’d never seen him in anything but a plain t-shirt and jeans, hair cut in a low buzz.
He glanced over as Mila entered, eyes widening a bit when Jaron stepped into sight. “Hey, Mila. Thought you’d be by. Gave her a shower and a joint. Wouldn’t eat but you can take a sandwich with you.”
Mila inhaled, exhaled. “You know she can’t be here at all. You were supposed to not let her in if she came back.”
“What, you want me to kick her on the street when she’s out of it? Grow up, girl.
Ain’t nothin’ going on here that’s gonna make your mama any sicker than she already is.”
Mila approached the bed, crouching down to study her mother’s face. Thin, brown skin pale from several weeks being indoors. Her long curls were damp, and ruthlessly contained in two tight braids. When she was sleeping Mila remembered just how young Ma was. But then, it wasn’t like she ever really forgot.
“I just wish…” she trailed off, not bothering.
“No point,” Sam said. “Till she decides to help herself, ain’t nothin’ you can do. So what’s with the bodyguard?” Sam jerked his head at Jaron. “No one here gonna bother you, girl.”
“Yeah, I figured since she owes you money you’d cop a ‘tude about me taking her.”
She glanced at him sideways and pressed on him the desire to just let them walk out peacefully- he could deal with Ayita and her tab later.
Sam smiled, and it wasn’t pleasant. “I bide my time, girl. One day- but for now, get out.”
***
Mila didn’t know how long her mind trick would work.
“You can’t keep doing that,” Jaron said.
“What?”
He glanced at her. “Don’t pretend with me, Mila. I know what you’re doing. The… healings… are increasing certain latent abilities in you. I can feel it. It doesn’t always happen with humans, but when it does, they need to be trained.”
Her mouth tightened. “If you knew it was a possibility, why didn’t you say something? I thought I was going crazy for a while.” But she’d always had a strong will, especially before she became sick.
“Usually it happens with humans who have a predilection towards telepathy.”
She nodded. Several times in her life she’d been able to influence others. Nothing major, and not in ways that would make any dramatic changes in her life, but just enough to smooth a bad situation into a tolerable one.
“We’ll talk about it later. Let’s just get clear of this block before Sam tries something.”
Jaron carried Ayita who was so deeply asleep Mila knew Sam had given her more than a joint. Probably pills, too, so he didn’t have to deal with her frenetic energy. He and Ayita went way back- Mila didn’t want to think about what kind of way back, though. Her mother didn’t have to do those things anymore; she’d managed to get well enough with treatment.
Looking over her shoulder, she walked faster. There were enough working street lights that Jaron’s face shone a weird orange blue, but in some areas of the neighborhood where the lights didn’t reach, there were black spots. Patches where an attacker could wait, scope out prey.
“Not much longer,” Jaron murmured, catching Mila’s eyes as she looked back again.
“I don’t like it,” she said. “Last time I saw Samson he was pissed about me not being able to pay Ma’s tab.”
“Walk faster.”
It took her a moment to realize the calm command wasn’t simply a response to her words. A figure stepped out of a black spot, a bit of alley behind an abandoned corner store. She only saw the shadow because Jaron was watching it.
“Shit,” she said.
“Your right,” he said.
She looked in that direction, picked out two more shadows, emerging from either side of the street. Jaron stopped, set Ayita on the sidewalk, propped against a building.
“They might not be for us,” she said.
He threw her a disbelieving look. “Guard your mother.”
“You’re a doctor!”
But he ignored her hissed words and Mila swore in frustration. What the hell was he going to do against three attackers?
There was no foreplay, no preliminaries like in the movies. One moment Jaron was within speaking distance, and the next the three converged on him.
4
CHAPTER FOUR
Mila didn’t scream, that would just be stupid and remind one of the three that she was a sitting duck. But damn- he wasn’t a warrior. He might have trained as a teenager, but he was a medic. They were lucky this was a mostly abandoned section of retail shops, rather than residential. There would be almost no traffic at night and few residents to potentially involve law enforcement. The next block with houses was still almost three streets down.
Jaron leapt away from a blow, sweeping into an advanced Form- one she’d seen the fourth year trainees practicing. How much longer could he hold out against three humans versed in dirty street fighting?
“Hold tight, Ma,” she said under her breath and strode forward.
No illusions about how much help she could be- half trained and physically weak. But she supposed she could at least act as a minor annoyance and distraction so Jaron could fight better. She couldn’t do the mind thingy and fight at the same time- she’d tried that once before and it hadn’t ended well. Jaron barely seemed to be moving, his Forms perfect, but… lazy. Almost rote, without the fire of the Adekhans in battle.
She sighed and flowed into Sixth Form, the first of the offensive skills taught once the basic defensive Forms were mastered. Not that she’d mastered them- Ithann loved to reiterate how hopelessly clumsy she was- but at least she had a little extra oomph tonight and might not trip over her own feet.
“What are you doing!” Jaron roared, more an expression of outrage than an actual question.
A fist to her face she blocked just in time, spinning and aiming her foot in a snap kick.
“Helping!” she screamed back, a little offended at his tone.
“I told you to stay with Ayita!”
“Stop yelling at me and fight!”
She couldn’t really pay attention to what he was doing, beleaguered as she was by her own opponent- who was playing with her more than anything else, if the huge, taunting grin was any indication. But Mila got the sudden impression of speed, and air. Oomphs and cut off cries and then the shuffling of shoes on pavement decreased by at least one as a body went flying through the air.
“Fuck,” she said, but the body wasn’t blue.
The moment of inattention cost her. Her opponent stopped smiling and attacked in earnest. The sophistication and oddness of her fighting style kept her from getting her ass kicked immediately. She managed to parry blows and only take a few glancing hits, but anger rose as she found herself stressed, unable to return blow for blow. Her breath came harsher, Jaron’s healing draining rapidly.
Rage in the back of her mind, masculine rage. Her knees buckled, Mila gritting her teeth to remain upright, when her body seized.
***
Jaron stopped playing with them the moment he felt Mila at his back. Damn foolish female. The young warriors always wanted to leap into battle before they were ready.
He disabled and tossed the humans away from him just as Mila’s body jerked, sending her sprawling to the ground.
“Fuck.”
The human she’d been fighting turned and sprinted away as Jaron lunged forward. He didn’t give the assailant another thought, grabbing Mila’s head between his hands and straddling her flailing body. He pushed a shockwave of energy into her, a pulse that loosened her muscles and sent her into unconsciousness. She hadn’t bit her tongue. Jaron calculated his options, realizing he now had two women to deal with. A quick glance showed Ayita was still where he’d left her, and unharmed.
But Mila jerked again. Jaron stared for a split second, then scowled. Damnit, even asleep she was rejecting his healing. He lifted her in his arms, pulling her shirt up enough for him to slide skin against skin and opened the bond between them.
Jaron sucked in a breath, hissing. The darkness swirling inside her. A cesspit of guilt and anguish, pain over years of neglect and loneliness. A desperate need for security and… family. Home. But, the guilt. Ayita must have been a beautiful girl, before Mila. Must have been happy and promising, before Mila. Mila’s fault, the unwanted baby, the product of assault. Daily reminder of pain, Ayita’s constant walking bruise.
He pulled out of the surface layers of her mind, cursing his own forcefulness in try
ing to heal her. He’d breached her natural mental barriers, felt things he had no right to know. But the feelings confirmed what he already knew; Mila felt guilty for her conception. Felt guilty for Ayita’s shell of a life.
If he wanted her to accept the bond, fight to live, he had to convince her that her life was worth living. Glancing at Ayita, his eyes narrowed. He’d have to convince Ayita to live as well.
***
Jaron decided to take the women back to YETI rather than to a hospital. Ayita needed rest and Mila needed what he could provide- human medicine wouldn’t do anything for her in the long term. He called and arranged for a vehicle to transport them, remaining on alert for more attackers.
He put off explanations when they arrived at the complex, having Ayita lodged in a small singlet room and taking Mila to his suite. Because he was on a long term assignment, they given him a larger apartment than most of the Yadeshi on earth. And because he was a doctor and seen as less hardy than a warrior. Jaron snorted. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him- if thinking he was delicate earned him larger accommodations, he was fine with the misconception.
Jaron monitored Mila’s condition for a while longer, settling her on the bed and making sure she was comfortable. He kept a thin tendril of the unformed bond open between them, just enough to alert him to any strong emotions while he went to have a talk with Ayita.
Mila’s mother was still asleep when he arrived, having detoured to his office for a syringe filled with a compound that would wake up a full grown ghagreuth. He was reasonably sure it would work on a human- they had equivalent creatures in their Earth elephants, so he imagined the concept was the same. Besides, he’d used it in smaller doses before to aid fatigued students needing an extra boost, with no ill side effects.
Jaron injected Ayita and waited, calculating the odds that the substance would interact with anything she may have taken. Ayita began coughing, eyelids fluttering, and woke up with a startled snort.
