Amid Stars and Darkness

by Chani Lynn Feener

  “Golden boy, huh?” he preened.

  “It must have mistaken my thought process as activation,” she cursed. “Stupid alien technology.”

  “So you were thinking about me?”

  She threw her arm out pointedly toward the water. “Are we going in or what?”

  Ruckus openly laughed, seemingly finding great pleasure in her frazzled state. He began wading into the pool, and her traitorous thoughts homed in on the contours of his back and the way his spine arched, and brought her gaze down to his tapered waist. His arms were corded muscle, his legs and torso long. She’d thought he was hot with clothes on, but seeing him like this …

  He spun around once he was up to his chin, the grin still in place. No doubt he knew she’d just been ogling him some more. So far his people were an attractive species, reminding her of models back on her planet. He’d probably discovered the effect he had on the opposite sex years ago.

  “Delaney,” he said, “come in.”

  She licked her lips, stubbornly crossing her arms and cocking out a hip. She was still wearing the green dress and the shoes. The air here was getting crisp, licking against her skin in a way that left chills behind. The water looked like it’d be the perfect temperature, not too warm, not too cold.

  “What if I promise to show you sometime? Will you come in then?” he said, and she blinked.

  “What?”

  “The flowers,” he said, and chuckled, clearly knowing where her mind had just been. “I’ll bring you here one of these nights and show you. You’ve never seen anything like it.” He held her gaze. “They used to be the only thing in this entire castle I actually enjoyed being around.”

  A bitter taste rose in her mouth, and the warm feeling that’d been collecting in her lower belly vanished.

  “Ruck—”

  “What color is your hair?”

  She frowned. “My hair? It’s red.”

  “Red.” The corner of his mouth turned up in an interested half smile. “We don’t have redheads here. You’d be a commodity. Everyone would stare.”

  “So it’s a good thing I look like Olena then, huh?” she managed.

  “What color are your eyes?” Obviously, he was determined.

  “They’re green,” she said. Then she added, “I got them from my grandmother.”

  “What shade of green?” he asked.

  “I’ve been told they look exactly like a cat’s.”

  “You and cats.” He tilted his head, eyes roaming over her as if trying to picture what she’d look like as someone else. He’d see the black-haired girl he’d known for years, Olena. It was her body right now shoved into the sundress. Her eyes he saw rolling, her arms. Her legs. Her lips.

  “You can stare all you like.” Even to her own ears, she sounded deflated. “You’ll never really see me.”

  Ruckus flinched and was standing less than an inch in front of her before she could blink. Taking her by the elbows, he held her steady until she met his gaze, staring up at him from under her long lashes.

  Were her lashes even long to him? She couldn’t recall what Olena’s looked like, if they were long or short and stumpy. Black, or dark brown.

  “I’ll never really see me,” she pondered, pursing her lips. “At least, not the me that you’re seeing. Does that make sense?” When he didn’t respond, she elaborated. “I don’t know what I look like to you, Ruckus. I don’t know if when I make a sad face, that’s what everyone here actually sees. I don’t know Olena’s expressions or her mannerisms, or if any of my own carry over correctly.”

  And, considering how hard it still was for her to look in the mirror, she didn’t really see that changing anytime soon.

  “You arch your brow when you think someone has said something stupid,” he told her quietly. “When you’re nervous, you chew on the side of your cheek. It’s almost imperceptible; I wouldn’t have even picked up on it if I hadn’t been watching you so closely during breakfast. And when you’re angry”—he reached out and brushed his thumb lightly between her brows—“your eyes harden, and a tiny crease forms right here.”

  He smoothed his thumbs over the curves of her elbows. “Olena never did any of those things. Really, she only had the two settings: pouty and bitchy. Though, now that I’m thinking about it, she could really pull off spacey as well.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be saying stuff like that about your Lissa,” she said for lack of a better thing to say.

  “Until this is all sorted, you’re my Lissa.” The tiny V formed between his thick brows once more. “You wear her so differently.”

  “That is seriously disgusting,” she told him honestly. “It sounds like I skinned her and made a suit. Really, there was no other way you could have put that? Maybe even just not saying anything would have worked.”

  Instead of apologizing, he lifted a hand to brush aside a strand of her hair, still frowning. “I wish I could see you.”

  “I wish you could see me, too,” she whispered, surprised to find she meant it. Pulling away, she made a big show of rolling her eyes, then bent to undo the straps of her wedges. Kicking those off, she took a moment to relish the soft spongy feel of the odd grass between her toes, then yanked the sundress over her head.

  With a start, she realized there were actually perks to looking like someone else. If he had been able to see the real her, she might have been more self-conscious. As it was, Olena had a great form, and one that he apparently knew well. There wasn’t anything Delaney could do that he hadn’t already seen from the actual Lissa.

  There was a certain freedom in that.

  To his credit, he kept his eyes locked on hers, not taking in her body—aka Olena’s body. When he offered his hand, she took it, and he moved backward, never once breaking eye contact. It was deeper the farther in they went, and closer to the center where he could still stand, her feet hovered over the bottom.

  A glance toward the doors showed her that there was a hallway that overlooked the pool. The side that faced them was all glass, so that whoever walked by could look down and see the swimmers.

  She didn’t know why, but it creeped her out. There was a distinct fishbowl feeling to it.

  She’d been swimming since she was four, so she let go of him and began enjoying the warm water. Her skin tingled slightly whenever she moved, and she shot him a questioning look.

  “It’s got healing properties,” he explained. “The green tint is a type of algae found on remote parts of Xenith. A Sutter”—the Vakar word for scientist—“discovered it about five hundred years ago. It’s very expensive and hard to come by, but the Basileus insisted on having it added to this place. It’s a less aggressive version of the Alter Pool, which is a healing source of water that can mend even bone. Only the royal family is allowed access to it. But this will do, and we’re allowed to be here. It’ll heal your cuts and bruises, ease headaches, the like.”

  “Is that why you brought me here?” She’d ask more about the Alter Pool later.

  “I figured you could use some relief from all the stress,” he confessed. “Don’t Earth girls like spa days? That’s what you call them there, correct?”

  “My mother loves them.” She started swimming slow, leisurely circles around him as she spoke. “She goes twice a month. I was invited along once, before my senior prom. It was supposed to be a special treat, so that I’d look and feel my best at the dance. I thought we’d get to spend some time together, but we didn’t. She went off and had a private massage, scheduled me for a mud bath. Suffice it to say, not my thing.”

  “And what is your thing?” Before she could answer, he reached out, hooking his arm around her small waist and pulling her in.

  Her body slapped against his hard chest, and she instinctually wrapped her arms around his neck. She could feel the thumping of his heart where her breasts were pressed tightly against him, and realized that her own was beating to the same frantic rhythm. Their mouths were mere centimeters apart, and the alg
ae-laced water had done nothing to diminish his firewood scent from this close.

  “Um, I like”—she had to pause and re-wet her throat—“bowling.” Her mind latched on to the first thing she could think of, and she realized the second his lips turned up how stupid that was. “But I already told you that.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, “you did.”

  “I also like—”

  “Tamales,” he interrupted. “And movies.”

  She narrowed her eyes in mock annoyance. “You trying to impress me or something, Ruck?”

  “Ruck?” He canted his head as if thinking it over. “I preferred the nickname Golden Boy, but I guess I’ll take what I can get.”

  She hadn’t even noticed she’d shortened his name. It was a bad habit of hers, something she did with all the people in her life she felt comfortable with. There wasn’t a friend she’d had in her lifetime that was without a nickname.

  “Olena had one of those for the Zane, you know,” he added.

  “She had a nickname for the guy she hated? Was it ‘Asshole’?”

  “No,” he said, and laughed, “though that one’s much better. It was Tryst. She said he was physically everything anyone could ever want in a guy, so she’d love to have a tryst with him. That was before their first conversation, of course. Up until then, she used to pine for him in the back of the room.”

  “Should we be doing this?” she asked then, not wanting to think about Trystan anymore.

  “What?” He lifted a brow. “Having fun?”

  “Sure.” She shrugged. “That. And this.” She waved in the tiny bit of space left between them. “Is this something that you and Olena usually did? Get this close?”

  “I’ve seen her naked,” he confessed. Then, before she could process how she felt about that, he said, “But she’s never seen me naked. We weren’t together, Delaney, and I told you the truth before. I’ve never been attracted to her.”

  “But you are now?” In his eyes, he was currently holding Olena’s body flush against his, after all. It was her mouth he kept sneaking glances at, her eyes, not Delaney’s green ones, that he was staring into.

  His grip around her waist tightened, and he cupped her head in his hand, holding her steady. “No. She isn’t who I’m attracted to. You are.”

  She allowed herself a moment to enjoy the feel of his hands on her, the heat sparking between them. There was a comfort whenever they were together, as if she knew, despite his being the one who’d taken her, that he would keep her safe. That he would keep his promise to get her back home.

  Pulling away was hard, but she disengaged their bodies and floated back a few feet to create space. At his confused and hurt look, she shook her head. She wanted him to keep holding her, and that was scary.

  “I wish I could believe that,” she ended up saying. “That you really are feeling this way because of me…”

  “But you don’t,” he said, catching on. “Because I don’t know what you look like?”

  “Because to you I look like her.” She wanted to try to get him to understand, yet she didn’t know how to. It was simple in her mind, but clearly he didn’t feel the same way, because his frustration was apparent.

  Suddenly he cocked his head to the side, listening to something she couldn’t hear. It took her a moment to realize someone must have connected with him telepathically. She thought about asking how far the connection stretched but figured now wasn’t the right time. That was even more apparent when he started for the shore.

  “Something’s come up,” he told her, already dressed by the time she’d joined him. Bending down, he snatched her dress and held it out to her, avoiding looking her way. “I’m needed back in the joint room.”

  She’d ask what a joint room was later as well. It took her longer to strap her shoes back on than it did to pull the dress over her wet suit. Either Ruckus hadn’t thought about bringing towels, or in his haste to get away from her, he just didn’t want to bother with them. He was waiting by the door when she finished, and she walked over.

  There was no real reason for her to do it, but at the last moment she found herself looking up. Her heart froze in her chest when her eyes locked on cornflower-blue-and-crimson ones.

  Trystan was standing in the glass hallway, staring down at her.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Olena!”

  Delaney rolled over, swatting at the hands shaking her arms. In her groggy dream state, she couldn’t understand the words, but she knew she wanted to be left alone.

  “Olena!” The person shook her harder, cursed, and then yanked her off the bed and onto her feet.

  Letting out a yelp, she snapped fully awake and blinked up at a pair of yellow-green eyes. Strong arms banded around her, one at her waist and the other around her shoulders, holding her up. He wasn’t dressed in his uniform, and even though that confused her, for a second she didn’t understand who he was or where she was.

  Then he shook her again, and she gripped his shoulders to keep her head from snapping back by the force.

  “Damn it, Ruckus,” she growled, it all rushing back to her.

  He’d brought her back from the pool and had left her in Olena’s rooms without a word. She’d spent the rest of the night pacing. Glancing up, she saw that it still wasn’t fully morning, a shadowy glow cast around the room. She couldn’t have been asleep for more than two hours.

  “We need to go, now,” he bit out, turning to drag her toward the door.

  That was when she noticed Lura was also standing there, wearing a thin silver nightgown that barely reached her knees. That explained why Ruckus had been calling her Olena. The other girl was pale, and was wringing her hands in front of her. Her gaze kept shifting from them to the open door where Pettus was waiting.

  Delaney could hear shouts from the hall, and every few seconds a group of soldiers rushed by.

  “What’s going on?” She tried to loosen his hold as he practically dragged her away from the bed. She’d gone to sleep in one of the gold nightgowns from Olena’s closet. The damn thing was even shorter than Lura’s, and barely covered anything.

  “We’re under attack,” he growled.

  “What?!”

  “Just get moving, Olena!” Ruckus got them out the door and moved his grip to her arm so that she was standing on her own feet. Without sparing her a glance, he began leading them down the hall, trailing her behind him so quickly, she kept almost tripping.

  “Report?” he asked Pettus, the other soldier moving up to the right.

  “They’ve been held back at the entrance. After the explosion security swarmed in. Tellers are holding them off as we speak. It shouldn’t be long,” Pettus informed him. They reached a four-way stop, and Pettus took a step to the right, giving a nod, before heading away and blending in with another group of soldiers dressed in forest green.

  “There’s been another explosion?” She hadn’t understood anything else he’d said, but she was pretty sure that was the most important part anyway.

  “Yes.” Ruckus pulled them down another hall, this one narrower than the rest. “At the front of the building. A supply craft had a bomb hidden on it. By the time the men at the gate picked up on the device’s signature, it was too late. It took out the fountain.”

  “There’s a fountain?” She hadn’t seen the front of the castle yet, the only time she’d been outside being at the Tandem game. Now that she was thinking about it, though, all the explosions seemed to be happening out there. Maybe sticking indoors was the smartest way to go.

  “There was.”

  They came to a sudden stop in front of a painting of a tall man with blond hair dressed similarly to how the Basileus was dressed yesterday. Curling his fingers around the left edge of the gold frame, Ruckus unhooked a latch and the painting swung outward.

  “This is you.” He motioned toward Lura, who’d been following quietly behind them.

  She moved forward and reached up to pull herself into the dark cavern that the painting
had revealed. It was another hallway of a sort, with no lighting. There was no way of telling how deep it went.

  “Wait.” Delaney stopped him when he went to close the painting after Lura. “We’re leaving her?”

  “This leads straight to the basement,” he explained, shrugging off her hold so he could finish.

  She and Lura stared at each other until the hidden door clicked shut once more.

  “Shouldn’t she stay with us?” she couldn’t help but ask, thinking that being with him was safer than anywhere Lura could be going.

  “No,” he said, and started forward again. “The royal family has a different security location. That’s where we’re going. I’ll drop you off and then—”

  “Absolutely not.” She dug her heels into the floor so that he’d either stop or drag her. He stopped. “I want to stay with you.”

  Another blast went off before he could respond, and this time she felt it. The walls actually shook around them, and her eyes widened. Without knowing what she was doing, she’d stepped closer to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her tinier form for the second time. Huddled against his chest, surrounded by him, she was able to take a breath.

  “Something else just happened,” he told her, as if she hadn’t already figured that out. “I need to go out and check on it, help my men. I’m the Ander, Delaney. It’s my job.”

  “I thought your job was to keep me safe,” she mumbled against the smooth black cloth of his shirt. She inhaled deeply, letting his familiar scent of crackling firewood comfort her. On some level she knew she was being childish, asking him to stick around, clinging to him like she was.

  “It is,” he said calmly. She felt him hesitate, then his chin dropped to the top of her head and his voice lowered huskily. “I’m going to bring you to the Basileus. His security team is made up of the strongest and best-trained soldiers in Vakar. They’ll protect you until I come back for you.”