Leda fixed her stare on him, the kind of stare he hoped he’d never see from her. “You’re an alien.”
“I am.”
“And your friends are aliens.”
“Yes.”
For a long moment, Leda remained silent, staring over his shoulder. It felt as though she were looking through him, as if she didn’t see him. Or didn’t want to, which, he had to admit, hurt more than the thought of heading back to Aurelis without the weapon and seeing his planet destroyed for real.
When she spoke, her voice was a whisper, and yet it sounded louder than a scream in his head. “Who are you?”
He wanted to say so many things, to explain himself. The dynamic between them had changed, and he couldn’t get the words right in his head. “I don’t know how much I can tell you yet.”
“Yet?”
He nodded—Roar hadn’t spoken to the others beyond the brief call to Oline, and in light of Leda being one of them, he wondered if that made her privy to the mission. “I just need a little time.”
“Time to think of a lie, more like it.”
“I—”
“No, you listen. I took a bullet for you, Roar. I saw your moving tattoo thingy, whatever it is. I saw you move faster than a person should be able to move when you saved Nils. I watched you turn into a blur and go sneaking around, breaking into people’s houses, and even though I thought about it, I didn’t call the cops.” She paused for a breath. “You know what makes it worse? I let you in. I trusted you, but you didn’t trust me. Do you know how much that hurts? Worse than having my ribs cracked open and my heart cut away piece by piece—”
“Leda,” her uncle said in a biblical thou-shalt-not voice, stepping inside the room. “There’s no need to be melodramatic.”
She glared at Arne. “Did you know about him?”
“I did, and so did Grams.”
Leda’s grandmother stepped inside the room, and Roar saw her with a new appreciation. He stood to leave, but Arne motioned for Roar to stay next to Leda, on her bed.
“You must have many questions, but leave them until I’m finished, if you can,” Leda’s grandmother said. “What I am about to tell you is my biggest secret. I always knew there would come a day when you would discover the truth, but I didn’t think it would be like this.”
Roar leaned closer, watching Inger with rapt attention, part of him knowing what she’d say, but not knowing the details, and those details were necessary, like air and food and water.
“I was a young girl, no more than four Earth years old, when my parents and I were sent away from our home, for security reasons. My mother was the foremost expert on interstellar propulsion—”
Leda made a rude sound. “Interstellar? You’re joking, right?”
Inger frowned in reproach. “Yes, interstellar. When we arrived, our ship was spotted over occupied Norway as we searched for a safe place to live. Somehow, the Germans got a lock on our position and one of their pilots managed to bomb the ship, wiping out life support and navigation. We had no choice but to land—and it wasn’t an easy landing. Those who weren’t killed during the crash into the Barents Sea were rescued and taken prisoner by the Germans, and housed at Vardøhus Fortress. My father was not among the captured, though. We were treated with suspicion by the soldiers, and questioned daily, sometimes for hours at a time without food or water. I learned very quickly that there are horrible people everywhere, even in far off galaxies.”
Inger paused, her eyes glassy with a faraway look. A moment later, she blinked, the mist fading from her eyes. “With the help of a young German officer who fell in love with my mother, we escaped to the mainland—however, there was no tunnel back then. We managed to steal a boat that leaked constantly. The entire time my mother rowed, I used my cupped hands to hurl freezing cold water over the side. By the time we reached land, my arms ached, my fingers were so cold they locked together, and I couldn’t catch my breath. Those long winter months nearly killed us.” Inger glanced at Roar then, a knowing smile on her face. “Aurelis has a much warmer climate than the northern and southern extremes of Earth.”
“It does,” Roar agreed. “The first time I saw snow was when I came here. I couldn’t figure out what the white stuff on the mountains was, until we scanned them, and the results were frozen water—ice and snow. There’s no snow on the mountains back home.”
Leda ignored Roar, and a fist clutched his heart, but he pushed the feeling aside as he listened. “So what happened?” Leda said. “Did you find your dad?”
“After many years, yes, we did. He had become what they referred to as a ‘guest of the Third Reich’ in Naumburg, Germany at Schulpforta; a Nazi training facility for young boys. When the war ended, my father was free, and a small troop of British soldiers brought him back to the crash site, where he built this house,” she said, looking around the room. “When my mother and I came back to Vardø, we had a home, and a future. Other survivors spread out around the island—about forty or so Aurelites and some from other planets in the known systems—and we all kept to ourselves. It was decided, however, that we should not mix our genes with the humans. There was no way to discover what effects it might have on the population, or what the humans would do to us if they uncovered our true identities.”
There are more Aurelites here than Petrus, Stein, Oline, and I. Roar’s head spun with the knowledge. “How many are there still alive today?”
“Hundreds, spread around Europe. Some in Canada, and two families in America. We’ve been careful, marrying within our own kind, keeping separate from the humans while at the same time, immersing ourselves in their cities.”
Leda nibbled on a fingernail. “Why didn’t you ever try to go back to Aurelis?”
“We were meant to stay here, Leda. Returning wasn’t an option, even if the ship hadn’t been destroyed.”
“Why?”
Inger glanced at Roar, then back to Leda. “We were at war. Still are, if my assumptions are correct.”
Roar shut his eyes slowly, almost afraid to meet Inger’s gaze. He let out a breath and opened his eyes, grateful that everyone was looking at Leda now.
She seemed dazed. “So you’re really…”
Leda’s grandmother nodded.
“And Uncle Arne?”
From his spot across the room, Arne grinned. “Ja.”
Leda’s eyes bulged. “And Mom…?”
“Yes,” her grandmother said. “And your father, too.”
“So I’m—”
“Not human,” Arne filled the blank.
Leda’s eyes met Roar’s. “I’m an alien.”
Chapter Ten
A thick, gray fuzz blocked Leda’s vision as she woke. Unimaginable pain lanced through her belly and her head throbbed. Leda blinked a few times and her vision cleared. Standing at the end of the bed, looking like she came straight from a runway in Milan, was Mom. Where Leda was dark, her mom was fair. Blond hair, blue eyes, freckles. Unearthly beautiful.
Not human.
Leda soaked in her surroundings. Grams was in her rocking chair. Arne, who leaned against the wall next to Leda’s bed talking to a woman Leda hadn’t seen before, must have brought it up.
Not human, either.
And then there was Roar, pacing beside the dresser. He wouldn’t meet her gaze, no matter how fiercely she glared or silently commanded him to.
Aliens. All of them.
Me, too.
And Dad. Ohmigod ohmigod. Who am I? Leda sucked in a breath and a fresh peel of pain stabbed her abdomen. Her forehead boasted an ostrich egg-sized bump from where Charlie cracked her with his handgun, and half a dozen other nicks and bruises colored her skin. All in all, Leda felt like a giant bag of crap.
Uncle Arne twisted the end of his beard as he studied her. “How are you feeling?”
“Like someone shot me.”
Faint lines framed Mom’s eyes as she scowled. “This is why you dragged me away?” she said to Grams. “I have to return to my client
s.”
Leda had never seen anyone move as fast as Roar, who now blocked Mom’s exit. “If you were any kind of a decent mother,” he said, his voice deep with warning, “you’ll spend some time with your daughter.”
The room seemed to darken and rattle. “Pathetic little worm. You do not want to stand in my way.”
Roar held his ground. “There are more important things in life than making money. You don’t even know what’s happening out there.”
“And why should I care? What have they ever done for me?”
“That’s your problem.” Roar’s voice was dangerously low. “You feel like you’re owed everything for nothing. Why? Because your mother had a rough childhood? Your daughter’s defective?”
The words knifed into Leda’s chest. Tell me how you really feel.
“You know what?” Roar dropped his arms from the door frame and stepped aside. “Just go. No one needs you around here anyway.”
Leda stared at the back of her mom’s head. All her foolish childhood fantasies swam before her eyes: Mom, coming home and pulling Leda into her arms; Mom, calling Leda from all the places she went to, talking about where she was and what she was doing; Mom, choosing Leda over everything else.
Reality won, though. Mom smoothed a hand over her hair and strode from the room. She didn’t look back and all eyes darted to Leda. She couldn’t stop the traitor tears building up, higher and higher, until she couldn’t see through the liquid haze. Her chest felt so tight she didn’t dare breathe. Mom had been walking away from Leda since she was born, and it seemed she wasn’t going to change direction.
Contrary to the saying, some wounds were not healed with time.
Grams slid her hand under Leda’s and held it firmly. “You mustn’t blame your mother for the way she is.”
She wanted to, more than anything. Placing the blame on someone wasn’t her style, though. Leda prided herself on being rational. The past couple of months took that side of her and crumpled it up, shoved it through a shredder, and handed her the leftovers, but she managed to tape the pieces back together. Mostly.
“I barely had any time with Mom before all this happened.” Leda sighed, trying to push out the hurt and anger with her breath. “I don’t even know who she is. And I doubt she spends much time thinking about me. I’ve only ever been a source of disappointment to her.”
“No,” Grams said. “The fault is mine. Your mother loved someone once, but because of who we are, she couldn’t marry him. Nina wanted children. Many children.”
Leda frowned. “And instead, she got me.”
“It’s not that simple. Your mother never loved your father, despite his best attempts. Still, she wished for children, so they came to a compromise. Your father had the knowledge and the equipment, so he—” A tremor worked down Grams’ throat. “Using the necessary biological components, you were, eh, for lack of a better word, created.”
“Created?” Leda yanked her hand away, feeling dirty and false and a bajillion other things she couldn’t fit into specific categories. “Like an experiment. Except this one went horribly wrong.”
“Not wrong, Leda. I wish you would stop focusing on the negative. Everyone around you sees a beautiful, intelligent girl with a bright smile and even brighter future.” Grams turned to Roar, a smile curving her lips. “This way, he was able to ensure his destiny would continue on in you, should he not survive to see the day when the Elders were forced to send for him.”
Across the room, Roar turned pale and grabbed the door knob for support. The metal groaned under his grip. “It’s her?” he said, his voice a harsh whisper.
Grams stared at Roar, a knowing glint in her eye. “I was under the impression you were well aware of this.”
Roar shook his head. He aimed a super-heated, probing stare at Leda that made her nervous. “I just thought…” He paused, and the tip of his tongue darted out over his lower lip, followed by his teeth.
Impatient, Leda probed, “You just thought what?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest.” He palmed the back of his neck. “I was drawn to you. Am drawn to you.” Roar’s eyes became intensely dark as he stepped closer to the foot of Leda’s bed. “It almost feels like, at one time, you and I were connected, and someone cut the threads between us. And since then, I’ve been trying to find you again. When I’m not with you, there’s this constant pull in your direction that pulses inside me constantly. The minute I touch you, that pull dissolves, and I’m in the most peaceful place I’ve ever been.”
She didn’t know what he meant, but Leda felt warm all over at the admission. The throb in her head subsided for a moment, giving way to a blissful sensation. All the while, confusion wrapped her stomach in knots. Roar held her on the end of a string and was using her like a yo-yo. The constant up-and-down didn’t help her own messed up emotions.
“I think I’ll go rest,” the strange woman said, breaking the tension in the room. “If you need me, let me know.”
Arne shot Roar a dark look, then smiled at Leda and followed the woman from the room.
“And I think I’ll go and check the oven before Roar’s friends arrive,” Grams said. “I’ll bring them and the cookies up later. You have a little more explaining to do,” she added, giving Roar a wink. But before she left, she leaned over Leda and held her close. “Don’t get too close to Roar,” she whispered, so softly only Leda could hear. “I’ll explain later.” She stepped back and smiled. “For all our sake’s.” And then she left the room.
Wait. What the hell had Grams just said? Don’t get too close to Roar?
Then Leda and Roar were alone. Again. The circumstances were much different this time—the playing field level, too. This time, they weren’t human and alien. This time, they both knew what the other was. Except Roar and Grams seemed to think Leda possessed some magical ability or something. Reality swam like white spots in her vision.
“I’m going to ask you something,” Leda said slowly, her eyes fixed on a pattern on the blanket by her feet. “And I want you to tell me the truth.”
Roar crossed the room, his footsteps almost echoing. “Anything.”
“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s her?’”
“That’s kind of the reason we came to Earth.” His gaze moved to the bed, asking a silent question. Leda motioned for him to sit, and he settled down on the covers. “The Elders—they’re sort of like our government on Aurelis—sent me, Petrus, Stein, and Oline to find the weapon that was delivered to Earth a long time ago for safekeeping.”
“Why do you need a weapon?”
“The Woede,” Roar answered bluntly.
“The who?”
Roar frowned and let out a low growl. “Do you remember when you told me you could tell I’d lost something, too?”
As though she could forget. “Yeah.”
“The Woede want to destroy my entire race. The weapon is the only thing that can save us. They’d been unsuccessful in conquering Aurelis, my home planet, until the day me and my crew were sent to collect the weapon. I don’t even know if I have a home to go back to, but I have to try.” He paused, and when she didn’t say anything, he added, “Your discomfort has a texture, you know. I can feel it, clogging the air in the room.”
Leda rolled her eyes. “Thanks, that really helps. Anyway, you haven’t finished answering my question.”
“You’re right.” Roar reclined on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling light fixture, his hand so close to her thigh that she could feel the warmth of his skin through her pants and the blankets. “Like I said, we were sent here to find a weapon. The Elders didn’t tell me what it was, or what it looked like. It could have been anything. But our ship’s sensors indicated Vardøya was the place we needed to be, so we came here. I was supposed to be able to find the weapon, but all I found was you. Turns out, I was overthinking the whole process.” Roar turned to Leda and said, “I’m drawn to you because I’m supposed to find you.”
She shut her eyes. �
�I’m not following.” Okay, so that wasn’t totally true. She had an idea what he meant, but she needed Roar to say it out loud.
When she opened her eyes, he admitted, “You’re the weapon, Leda.”
Her heart turned to ice. The pendant felt hot and heavy on her chest. “How is that possible?”
“I’m not sure. I get the feeling your grandmother knows more than she told us earlier, so we’ll wait until the others get here. Then we can press her for details.”
“When do you think they’ll—” Leda began, but the doorbell rang and cut her off.
Roar sat up. “I’ll bet that’s them.”
She grabbed his arm before he stood. “About what I said earlier, when I woke up and Arne barged in.”
“It’s okay. I know you’re dealing with a lot, and you’re right. I did keep things from you, because I thought you were human, and I didn’t know how long I’d be here.”
“And now?”
He paused, the moment a fluttering moth between them. “I guess things are different.”
Leda opened her mouth to ask how, but Grams came into the room, followed by three others. Roar’s friends. More aliens. Grams set a plate of cookies on the bedside table along with five plastic cups and a carton of cashew milk. When everyone had found a place in the room—a black-haired boy leaning against the wall next to Grams’s rocking chair, a girl with pale, colorless hair perched on the chair, and the boy with red hair beside the door with his arms crossed and a sour look in his eyes—Roar made the introductions. Petrus had the black hair. Oline was the girl. And the final guy was Stein, aka Mr. Scowly Pants.
Settling on the bed, Grams cleared her throat and began another speech. “When I was a little girl, we left Aurelis with several scientists who were believed to be in danger from the Woede. Our destination was always Earth, a supposed safe haven. There was a young man, about fifteen, if I am correct, who was considered the most important passenger on the ship. They called him Erlosser—the Redeemer. Every generation, one member of his family passed on a special gene that made them a powerful weapon against our enemies. The fate of Aurelis was certain as long as the Erlosser lived.”
All the Stars Left Behind Page 9
