The Girl Who Called The Stars

by Heather Hildenbrand

  It leveled the playing field, but it also made the whole thing a lot scarier. If Xander didn’t have the answers, no one did. I wasn’t sure I wanted to face a threat that even he couldn’t understand.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Peachy. Tharos didn’t just have the biggest army and the strongest weapons in the seven systems combined. He also had dark magic and someone here had found a way to use some of it for the purpose of dragging me off. And here I’d thought my terror of the monsters that had invaded my home and killed my family couldn’t get any worse.

  I was so, so wrong.

  I was also never going anywhere alone again.

  When Xander stopped zoning out on all the possibilities, he and Peter switched immediately to talk of schedules and bodyguards and all the places I was no longer allowed to roam alone—which was basically everywhere but the damned bathroom.

  I sighed and let them make their plans.

  This wasn’t a fight I was going to win. Not tonight. Not with my ankle still bruised from some unseen alien-magician’s attempt to drag me off.

  Besides, now that the adrenaline had left my body, exhaustion had kicked in. No matter how hard I tried to summon the energy it would take to fight them, I was drained.

  “We’ll keep the circle small,” Xander was saying. “Until we know more about who is and isn’t a suspect.”

  “I think that’s smart,” Peter agreed.

  My lids drooped, heavier and heavier as the sound of their voices became a droning hum; white noise lulling me.

  “Is she actually asleep?” I heard Xander asking Peter.

  My lids fluttered, but I was too far gone to pry them all the way open.

  “That girl slept through hurricanes back on Earth,” Peter said, clearly unsurprised.

  Xander snorted, and they fell silent.

  “She should change out that bandage,” Xander said a moment later.

  “She can do it in the morning. Let her sleep a while. It’s better than the argument she’s going to give us when she hears our new schedule for her,” Peter added.

  “She’s just as stubborn as I remember,” Xander said.

  Peter murmured a soft agreement before his chair creaked and his footsteps retreated.

  A moment later I was jostled as strong arms scooped me up and carried me across the room.

  “The front bedroom is hers,” I heard Peter call just before I drifted off.

  I woke a few minutes later, just enough to hear them discussing who would take first shift. Xander’s voice penetrated the haze, his words floating around my dreamscape and mingling with the ones of my dreams.

  “I want to cross check the list of everyone there tonight,” he told Peter. “Give me an hour and then I’ll come back and help you keep an eye on things here. In the morning, Eamon and I can put a team together to take over so we can investigate more fully.”

  Xander’s promise was the last thing I heard before sleep claimed me soundly.

  Oblivion didn’t last.

  I woke a few hours later to a dark room. Disorientation gave way to stark awareness, and I bit back a scream at the sight of the figure slouched in a chair at the foot of my bed. My glow blinked on, sending a beam of light so bright I had to shield my own eyes.

  When I could see through the black dots floating in front of my eyes, I was able to identify my bedroom babysitter.

  “Peter,” I said, clutching my chest and struggling to catch my breath.

  At the sound of his name, he leaned forward suddenly, rubbing his eyes and looking around. “What happened?” he mumbled.

  “Sorry,” I said, sending my glow winking out again as I burrowed back into the soft blankets. “I woke up and didn’t recognize you. I—”

  “What happened?” Xander suddenly appeared in my bedroom doorway, breathless, shirtless, and all lit up from the chest outward. He looked back and forth from me to Peter, clearly searching for the danger.

  “I…” The sight of Xander’s bare chest and broad shoulders made my mouth dry. I tried answering him, but my tongue suddenly didn’t want to move—except maybe to hang out of my mouth in a pant. Goddess, he was gorgeous.

  What were we talking about again?

  I blinked.

  Xander looked back at me, cocking his head almost knowingly. Then his own gaze turned heavy as he seemed to register the fact that I was addressing him from my bed. Suddenly very aware that I’d shed everything but my strappy tank top during my sleepy haze a while back, I yanked the covers up to just below my chin.

  Xander shifted his gaze away, and we fell into an awkward silence.

  Peter put us both out of our misery. “She’s fine. Just startled is all. We can all go back to bed.”

  “Oh.” Xander frowned and did one more cursory sweep of my body.

  Even though I knew he was searching for danger—basically, for some threat to kill—my skin tingled at the way his gaze found my body even through the blanket.

  It didn’t even matter that Peter was here as a third wheel.

  Okay, it mostly didn’t matter.

  Xander blinked and his gaze returned to my face. It dawned on me we were both staring at each other and had been silent for way too long to go unnoticed.

  Instead of calling us out, Peter just sighed and then stood up. His knees creaked as he straightened, and he braced his hands on his hips, arching his back in a stretch. “I’m going back to bed. Xander, you want to start your shift early?”

  “I’ve got this for a while,” Xander said way too quickly.

  Peter paused in the doorway, giving Xander a very parental once-over. “Yes, I can see that you do. I’ll be in the next room,” he added pointedly. “Get some sleep, Alina.”

  “I’ll try,” I said as he disappeared into his bedroom, and the door shut with a click.

  Xander and I faced each other, the space between us lit only by the light from Xander’s very naked—very muscular—chest. I made a valiant effort not to look at it again—and failed.

  After another beat of awkward silence, Xander dropped into the chair Peter had vacated. I sat up straighter, very aware of how close he sat now. And how alone we were. Not to mention the fact that he was half-naked, and I was already in bed and—

  “You’re not going back to sleep anytime soon, are you?”

  “Considering the heart attack waiting for me when I wake up and find someone sitting over my bed, probably not.”

  “Peter was right. You’re going to argue about this until the very end, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t need a babysitter to literally watch over me while I’m sleeping,” I insisted. “This is ridiculous.”

  “I can’t protect you properly if I’m in the living room.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Considering how powerful this magic supposedly is, one could argue that you can’t protect me at all.”

  “So, what? We shouldn’t even try?”

  I shrugged.

  Xander shook his head. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”

  “Well, you’re in my room in the middle of the night. I can’t be expected to say only smart things at this hour under this kind of pressure.”

  Xander arched a brow, and I bit my lip to keep from making some weird sound of appreciation I couldn’t take back. The raised brow and bare chest was a combo I wasn’t prepared for. Why did he have to be so damn sexy, anyway? It was like cheating. Or the universe stacking itself against me.

  I needed to be serious. Mentally clear. Ready for anything.

  There was a nefarious magician out to get me and an interplanetary war to fight if I ever wanted to lead my people home. And all I could think about was how dreamy my babysitter slash political competition slash once future husband looked with his shirt off and his eyebrows slanted.

  Xander was right; I was ridiculous.

  But if anyone asked, I was going to call it a near-death hangover. That was a thing, right?

  “What are you thinking about right now?” Xander
asked.

  I blinked, startled out of my thoughts, and tried to think of what I could possibly tell him. The idea of giving a truthful answer made my cheeks heat. I looked away, trying to come up with something that didn’t sound totally stupid and insane. “Eyebrows,” I blurted.

  “Eyebrows?” Xander repeated, clearly unconvinced.

  “And near-death hangovers,” I added, wincing.

  He gave me a look that said I’d failed at the whole “don’t sound insane” thing.

  I scrambled for a safer topic, but it really was hard to think with a shirtless Xander sitting across from me.

  He shifted on the chair, and a mark on his cheek caught my eye. I leaned in, studying his face more carefully now in the light of his glow. Then I gasped as he turned again and the light revealed the mark for what it was. A long, thin scratch—deep from the looks of it—ran from his jaw back to just above his ear before disappearing into his hairline.

  “What the hell happened?” I asked, tossing the covers off and crawling over to get a better look. I reached out, not even thinking about attraction anymore. In fact, the only emotion I felt was fury—and the urge to avenge whatever had been done to him.

  He was hurt.

  And I wanted to know by whom.

  “Who did this to you?” I demanded.

  But Xander turned his head to avoid my touch. “It’s nothing,” he said, twisting away from me.

  I glared at him. “Why is it cause for panic when I get tripped in a field full of people, but when you’re sitting here bloody in the middle of the night from some mystery injury, it’s no big deal? That’s not fair.”

  He flashed his teeth in a smile-turned-snarl. “That should have been the first lesson you learned. It doesn’t matter what planet you’re from. Life’s not fair.”

  I scowled. “I take it back. You’re mean all the time. Even when people aren’t around.”

  He grinned, stretching the bloody scratch with his smile and threatening to break the scab open. But he didn’t seem to care about that. “Relax. If you weren’t so fun to rile up, I wouldn’t be so mean.”

  My jaw dropped and my eyes narrowed. “Is that what you—”

  “I was wrestling with some of the new recruits earlier, and we got carried away.”

  I shut my mouth again, digesting his words. He was distracting me, I knew it. But I didn’t care because he was giving me the answers I wanted. Some of them, anyway. “Well, those recruits need a talk about personal hygiene. Whoever got ahold of you seriously needs to clip his nails.”

  Xander chuckled. “I’ll let Eamon know to pass it along to his pack.”

  “Eamon?” I repeated, confused.

  Xander shrugged. “He’s in charge of their overall training. I teach basic combat skills so they can learn how to fight something with opposable thumbs, but I’m not their direct superior.”

  I stared at him until the meaning behind his words sank in. “You were wrestling with wolves?”

  “Quiet,” Xander warned, glancing at the open doorway. “You’ll wake the warden.”

  All I could do was stare back at him. And not only because he’d just made a joke, although that was reason enough for my shock.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You wrestled wolves,” I repeated in disbelief. And all he had to show for it was that scratch? My own gashes, thanks to Eamon, were way deeper and still healing underneath the bandage on my arm.

  “It’s not as scary as you think. And it makes me a better fighter. You fought Eamon. Don’t you agree?”

  I shook my head. “No. That was incredibly scary. The only thing it made me better at was bladder control in terrifying situations.”

  Xander laughed quietly, and I realized how much I enjoyed hearing him let his guard down like that. Not that I was going to admit it right now. I had a feeling if I did, it would ruin whatever this was.

  He nodded at my ankle. “You’re moving around much better than earlier.”

  I unfolded my legs where I sat on the edge of the mattress and looked more closely at the bruise that had formed. It still looked awful—all sorts of shades of purple and blue—but it felt much better than it had earlier.

  “Must have been something good in that casserole,” I said with a shrug.

  His eyes twinkled. “I’ll let my mother know.”

  I sat up straighter. “Your mother is here?” I asked.

  “She lives in the next quadrant over,” he said. “You look surprised.”

  “I guess I just assumed she… So many people were lost when Tharos invaded.”

  Xander nodded. “My father died saving her.”

  “He sounds incredibly brave,” I said quietly, my heart hurting in a way that only a shared grief could cause. “Well, I’d like to meet her sometime and tell her myself what a great casserole she makes.”

  “She’d like that, I’m sure,” he said in a tone heavy with some meaning I hadn’t yet grasped.

  “Will you teach me how to speak Zorovian?” I asked suddenly.

  Xander frowned, all of his easy amusement suddenly gone. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “I think it’s the best idea,” I said. “Especially after what happened tonight. It’s clear someone’s out to get me. If I can’t understand the language, it’s going to make it that much easier for them to—”

  “I’m not arguing about the language part. I just… I think you’re better off with a tutor. Or Peter—”

  “Peter is the last person I want to ask,” I said firmly.

  “Why? Didn’t he teach you everything else you’d need—”

  “Yes, but after what happened tonight, he’s also going to hover like an overprotective dog for at least the next millennia. I don’t want to also be stuck with him for language lessons. Please,” I almost begged. “I need some variety.”

  He hesitated. “I can ask Jalene.”

  I did my best to hide my disappointment. “Fine,” I said. And it was. Jalene seemed cool. But that wasn’t why he’d suggested her. “Maybe the three of us could hang out,” I added, watching him carefully now.

  His discomfort was visible a mile away.

  “What is it?” I asked. “And don’t use the word ‘protection’ for the love of the Goddess.”

  “It’s not about that,” he assured me.

  “What then?”

  “Last night, when I carried you home, it didn’t go unnoticed.”

  “Okay. So? Are the neighbors worried about my ankle? Because I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

  Mostly.

  “No.” He shook his head. “Not worried. They’re speculating.”

  “Speculating about what?”

  “You.” He hesitated and then added, “And me.”

  The look in his baby blue eyes said it all.

  “Oh.”

  “It wasn’t just your neighbors either. Eamon asked about us.”

  “Oh,” I said again, louder now. Xander didn’t answer. “What did you tell him?”

  My heart pounded to the beat of my own panic. Why was I more nervous about this than I’d been about making friends during that game of tag?

  “I told him the truth,” he said. “I’m little more than a stranger to you. Helping you deal with a twisted ankle doesn’t change that.”

  “Right.” I nodded my head—probably harder than necessary.

  Xander’s eyes lifted to mine, and there it was again, that same look that suggested buried secrets for the taking. I leaned in. Xander waited.

  The air between us grew thicker with the tension.

  If he kissed me again, I wasn’t going to stop him. I wondered if I’d hate myself for it considering the way he’d walked away from me the first time.

  “The thing is, you’re not a stranger to me,” he said quietly.

  “I don’t know what you want from me,” I admitted. “It’s like you keep getting close and then you push me away.”

  He hesitated, and I held my breath. We
were close now. So damn close and I wanted—

  “I want everything from you,” he said, and my stomach flipped. “But I also know that’s asking too much right now. After our time apart and your memories…

  “What does any of that have to do with today?” I asked, my voice rising in frustration. “Why can’t we have this? Now?”

  “I won’t start something you’re not sure you want to finish,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  The words were out before I could stop them, but I also didn’t really want to take them back.

  Xander shook his head like I’d said the dumbest thing possible. “What do you mean why not?”

  I plunged onward. “I mean, that’s how most people do it. Start something. See where it goes. If it works, great. If it doesn’t…” I shrugged, but even I could hear the weirdness that was going unsaid. I didn’t need my own memories of Xander to inherently understand that when he committed to something, it was all or nothing. No going back. And there was no such thing as “living in the moment” with him. It wasn’t who he was.

  Maybe that was why I hadn’t closed the distance and just kissed him. If I did, he’d interpret that kiss as a promise.

  Was I ready for that?

  He shook his head. “You are not most people, Alina. Maybe you were on Earth. And maybe I could have been if you were someone else. But you aren’t. And even if you wanted to be, these people aren’t going to let you. You might not have taken the throne officially, but to them, you’re an empress. And every move you make is noted. Every move, every touch, every—”

  “Kiss?”

  He nodded. “Every kiss. You’re not only responsible to yourself anymore. You are responsible to them. For all of it. You haven’t realized yet everything that means, but I do. And I’m not going to let it go somewhere you don’t want to explain.”

  Understanding dawned.

  Being with Xander would practically guarantee me my throne. But if it didn’t work out, it would cost me.