“Will there be anything else, Lissa Olena?” Lura asked, wringing her hands.
Taking that as a sign that the girl had somewhere else she wanted to be, Delaney waved dismissively. “No, that’s all right. Go on. Enjoy your day.”
“Thank you, Lissa.” She bowed and disappeared without any more preamble.
Delaney turned to gaze back out over the grounds, noticing a cropping of trees over toward the left. Had that been where the Tandem game had been held? She couldn’t tell.
That first attack from the Tars felt like a lifetime ago. In the two weeks since Ruckus had first taken her from the club, so much had happened. Again, her thoughts turned dark as she thought of her parents and roommate. Up until now, whenever they’d come to mind, she’d dashed their images away. Thinking about them only made it worse, and besides, there was nothing she could do.
She needed to stay on track, work on the things she actually could change and control. Doing anything less would only make her go crazy, and there were too many people counting on her to pull this whole Lissa thing off for that to be acceptable.
The white metal railing circled the entire balcony and came up to just below her chest. She needed to lift onto the very tips of her toes in order to peer over it, finding nothing of interest for her efforts. Just more grass, or whatever they called the stuff here.
“Thinking of jumping?”
Startled, she dropped to her feet and twisted to face the new arrival.
Trystan had come up to her side and was resting his elbows on the top of the railing. At his height, he could see the bottom easily enough, and raised a questioning brow at her. She had no idea when he’d gotten there, or how long he’d been watching.
“And give you the satisfaction?” She snorted. “Hardly.”
Had Lura let him in before leaving? If so, why hadn’t she announced him? Wasn’t that the proper thing to do? She resisted the urge to turn tail and run back inside, not wanting to be alone with him, yet not wanting to show weakness even more.
Trystan gazed out over the grounds, seemingly at ease, like this was a normal thing, the two of them enjoying some fresh air together.
“If you’d said that to me a few weeks ago—hell,” he said, chuckling humorlessly, “if we were up here alone like this a few days ago, even, you’d be right. I might have even contemplated pushing you.”
She angled her head and rethought that whole fleeing plan. “That’s … comforting.…”
“It wasn’t meant to be.” He laughed darkly. “But it was honest.”
She couldn’t argue with him there, so she looked away, pretending to find interest in the rolling hills.
“It’s the big day,” he said, breaching the silence again. “Are you ready?”
“Absolutely,” she lied. Her sarcasm had been too apparent for him to miss, so she added, “Who doesn’t look forward to signing their future away?”
He was watching her intently out of narrowed eyes, as if trying to read her mind or something equally intrusive. He was dressed more casually today than she’d ever seen him, the tight navy shirt leaving his arms bare to expose corded muscle. His pants were just as formfitting, tucked into black boots.
It was a sharp contrast to her own clothing, the bronze dress flaring out at the hips so the skirts twirled when she moved, and bare feet. She hadn’t intended on going anywhere today, not after Ruckus had told her this morning that he was needed to help set up security measures for tonight’s event.
Pettus had offered to walk her around, but she’d politely declined. She’d gotten to know him a little better as well over the past couple of days, but it still wasn’t the same. Truth was, Ruckus was the only one she felt 100 percent comfortable around. They’d come a long way since he’d come up behind her in that alley back in Maine.
“It does mark a certain turning point for the both of us,” he said quietly, breaking into her thoughts. “It’ll be our first official public appearance together. I’m sure the masses will eat that up.”
“How are the plans coming?” she asked, unable to look him in the eye when she did. She felt him though, staring at her. “To stop the binding?” she elaborated. “Personally, I’m hoping since the last time we spoke, you’ve come up with something better than killing me.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, but instead of responding, he motioned toward her side. “How is the bruise?”
“All better,” she said between clenched teeth. “As if you really care. Ruckus took me back to the pool this morning—way to be a creepy Peeping Tom, by the way—and it was gone within an hour. Gotta admit: That’s one thing I’d miss being on Earth. No magic healing water there.”
“I’ve been told the healing effects of the Alter Pool are ten times more effective. I’ve got to admit that’s one thing I’d like about being the leader of the Vakar.”
“Joint leader,” she reminded him, and the corner of his mouth twitched again.
“Of course.” He shifted then, turning so that his towering body faced her. The wind picked up, blowing strands of his almost platinum blond hair around his face, and he absently smoothed them back with a large palm.
“What are you doing here, Trystan?” she asked then with a sigh. She didn’t want to keep doing this. As far as she was concerned, she had tonight to get through and then hopefully the Basileus’s estimation would come true and they’d find Olena by the day after.
“Can’t your betrothed come and see you?” he replied. “Especially when you speak to him so informally. I’m not sure when we reached casual greetings with each other, but this isn’t your first slip.”
Shit, he was right. She’d dropped his title, having never needed to address someone of his station, or any station for that matter, before.
Turning her head away to hide the blanching of her already pale complexion, she tried to appear calm. The Olena he remembered from five years ago was afraid of him, sure, but now he was used to the version she’d been portraying since her arrival. In order to keep up appearances, her best option would be finding a happy medium between the two.
That was easier said than done, considering her massive pride and inability to cower.
“I’m not the only one,” she said, latching on to the only memory she had of him doing so. “Back in the hallway, before we were brought to safety, you called me by my name alone.”
“So I did,” he confessed, not seeming the least bit annoyed she’d remembered. “That had more to do with your relation to who you were with than your relation to me, however.”
She didn’t understand, and he must have seen that, because he continued.
“It is important as your betrothed that I exude a certain closeness and”—he paused, definitely smirking this time—“possessiveness toward you. You being with the Ander, a man who spends more time with you than anyone else, this became even more imperative.” He took a step closer, suddenly crowding her space. “He needs to understand that you belong to someone else.”
It was getting hard to breathe, and she realized she most definitely should have taken the opportunity to go inside when she’d had the chance. Conversations with Trystan never went well, and if she hadn’t been too distracted by her worry for her family and trepidation for tonight, she might have been able to put her pride aside and go. Sometimes flight was the smartest option, no matter whom it was you were running from.
Let him have the upper hand this once, so long as she got away to live another day.
She moved back from the railing, sucking in a breath when he took a deliberate step after her. She wasn’t proud of it, but she froze. How had she missed that familiar glimmer in his icy blue-and-crimson eyes? The one that distinctly placed him in predator mode.
“Until a better option comes along, right?” she said, forcing the words past her lips, thankful when her voice didn’t shake nearly as much as she’d feared. “We both want out of this arrangement, Zane. Why don’t we come up with something together? A way where neither of us h
as to worry about more assassination attempts.”
“Have you tried assassinating me then, Lissa?” he said, drawling out her title pointedly, making it clear he knew what she was doing. “I doubt it.” He took another step, forcing her to retreat one herself. “If you had, I’d be aware of it. Something tells me you’re smarter than I initially believed, though. More capable. Sounds like you’ve been racking that pretty little brain of yours for a way out. So, let’s hear it. Come up with anything feasible?”
She gulped, then slid her right foot farther back, attempting a slow withdrawal from his hovering presence.
It’d be great if she had something to offer him, a solution, but she’d been so busy trying to keep her head afloat with this pretend Lissa act, she hadn’t really been thinking about how to get Olena out of her arranged marriage. She’d sort of just assumed by then that it would no longer be her problem, and while she felt for the girl, she had to admit she didn’t like her any more than anyone else seemed to.
Olena was the reason she was here, after all, being cornered by an alien three times her size out on some stupid balcony overlooking another damn planet.
“Haven’t been thinking about it too hard then, huh?” He smirked again, shifting closer still. “What’s wrong? Other things on your mind? I feel like getting out of this would be your number one priority, same as me. What on Earth could be more important than that?”
Her heart stopped. It’d been a clear jab, but what had he meant by it? Mentioning Earth like that, using a clear Earth phrase … He couldn’t know.
“What are you trying to imply?” she found herself asking, despite knowing she shouldn’t.
“You’re hiding something.” He lifted a finger, pressing it against her lips when she went to speak. “It doesn’t matter if you tell me.”
She slapped his hand away. “Then why bring it up at all?”
“To see your reaction.” He grinned, herding her backward more quickly than before. “To get confirmation. Now I know I’m right. There is something. That’s what I’m seeing in your eyes, what I’ve been seeing ever since you got back. You try to hide the differences.” He clucked his tongue. “Oh, you try so hard. But I see through you, Lissa. Something’s changed.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she said, but even she had to admit there was little conviction in her tone. It was getting harder to think, with his body less than an inch from hers. She could even smell him, a strange clean scent, almost like freshly cut cucumbers and basil. How wrong, that he should smell like that, instead of something dangerous and masculine.
It seemed the more she tried to get away, the faster he advanced, intent on crowding her. Already the broad span of his shoulders blocked out most of the sky.
“It’s not. I’ve been baiting you since the beginning, pulling out all the stops, and you still have yet to cry. In fact, quite the opposite seems to happen every time I attempt to push you too far. You don’t cower like you used to; you actually flourish. Our arguments bring out the heat in you.” He tipped her chin up with a single yet firm finger. “Secretly, you’re a wild thing.”
She pulled back sharply, coming up against the table hard enough to rattle it. She hadn’t been aware he’d moved her so far back, and she heard the mug that Lura had placed there shatter against the glass surface.
She was in the process of turning to assess the mess when Trystan yanked her away so hard, she let out a cry of pain. It was a wonder he hadn’t dislocated her shoulder with the amount of force he’d used. And he didn’t let go, his grip tightening as if he thought she was going to try to pull away from him.
Which he’d be right about, but she couldn’t so much as budge.
“Who brought you that?”
It was the tone of his voice had that her stilling her struggles. Slowly, she lifted her head to look at him, though, with how closely he had her pinned to his chest, all she could really see was the bottom of his chin. Still, she could make out the tightness of his jaw and the direction of his intense gaze.
With a frown, she turned to see why a little spilled teekee bothered him so much, then gasped all over again.
Smoky tendrils rose from the once slick surface. There were gaping craters and holes that burrowed straight through the three-inch-thick glass. Everywhere the teekee had touched was melted, a charred smell rising in the air along with the burning tendrils of whatever had actually been in the mug. The pieces of the cup remained oddly unaffected.
“Olena.” He shook her, snapping her attention back his way. His eyes were as hard as ice on her. “Who. Brought. You. That?” It was the slow way he said it that hinted at how angry he was.
She blinked, trying to understand his odd behavior in relation to yet another attempt on her life. He’d killed that soldier, Dreadus, but part of her had assumed it was to save face. He’d even just brought up how important keeping up appearances was. But this … He was five times more pissed than he’d been that night in the bunker. Hell, she didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone so angry before in her entire life.
Which didn’t add up, and she really did hate when puzzle pieces refused to fit.
“My atteta,” she answered before he could shake her again. She wasn’t sure her arm could take it. “Lura. Right before you got here.”
He let her go so suddenly, she stumbled. With a curse, he grabbed her again, righting her and then dragging her along with him through the balcony doors and back into her bedroom. He shoved her onto the bed, though a tad bit more gently, and without pausing, went straight to the door, tossing it open so hard, it almost came off the hinges.
“Get me the atteta,” he demanded of Pettus, who stood guard outside. “Now, Teller!”
“I’m under orders not to leave the Lissa alone,” Pettus informed him, holding his own despite how terrifying Trystan currently looked.
Bringing himself to his entire scary height, the Zane loomed over him in a much more threatening way than he just had with Delaney. It was good to note the difference, so that next time she’d be able to gauge how upset he was.
“Does it look like the Lissa is alone?” he growled so low, she barely caught it from where she still sat on the edge of the bed. “Do as I order, Teller, or I promise you, the atteta won’t be the only one who pays in blood today.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but Delaney stopped him.
“Pettus.” She waited until he met her gaze, and then shook her head. “It’s all right.”
He could tell it wasn’t—that was probably pretty obvious by the way she was shaking—but smartly, he didn’t press her. Waiting for a moment to see if she’d change her mind, he consented and glared Trystan’s way.
“I’ll be back with the Ander soon,” he stated.
“Be back with the atteta like I’ve instructed,” Trystan hissed, “or the next murder attempt won’t be against the Lissa; it’ll be against you. And it will be a successful one.”
Pettus’s eyes widened, and he took off without more prompting. He must not have realized what had taken place out on the balcony, had only seen how pissed the Zane was and hadn’t wanted to leave her alone with him.
She didn’t really want that, either. Right now the Zane was the scariest thing she’d ever encountered, but she knew Trystan hadn’t been lying. He would have hurt Pettus without hesitation, and she liked the Teller enough to spare him suffering at the risk of gaining a little of her own.
Trystan slammed the door shut and paced back toward her, running furious hands through his hair. She’d thought the room was big, but now, seeing him in it, prowling like a caged beast, she was forced to reassess.
Her hands clenched the comforter beneath her tightly, eyes locked on to his every movement. She couldn’t help the fear in her chest, the cold chill in her veins, or the blood rushing through her head so loudly, she couldn’t make out the words he was mumbling under his breath.
Okay, she thought to herself, don’t freak out.
The sweet, timid girl who’d been
helping her get dressed every morning since her arrival had just tried to murder her. No big. Assuming that it actually had been Lura. There was a chance it hadn’t. She could have gone to the kitchens or whatever they called them and gotten it from someone else.
That had to be it, right? There was no way Lura would have done something like this. The way the liquid in that mug had eaten through the glass table … How could anyone do that to another person? Ever?
Her stomach tightened painfully, and she clasped a hand over it. Part of her wanted to throw up, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut in order to bank the sensation. Three. Three times someone had tried to kill her. And the attempts had all been different.
An explosion, a beatdown, and now poisoning … The Tars were seriously pulling all the stops to get her out of the way. She wasn’t safe there, no matter what Ruckus and the Basileus believed. She wasn’t safe.
She needed to go home.
“Hey.” Trystan dropped before her, cupping her cheeks firmly. Once she’d opened her eyes again, he went on. “Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t cave in on yourself. Not when I’m just starting to be impressed with you. I’ll find who did this and I’ll make them suffer—you have my word. There’s nothing to fear, Olena. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“Why?” she said on a shaky breath. Out of all the attacks, this one messed with her the most. She guessed everyone had their limits, and she’d merely hit hers.
He ran the pad of his thumb under her right eye. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I just know that I won’t.”
“This wasn’t you.” She shut her eyes again, but he forced them open by tilting her chin up with the hands he still held her head with. It wasn’t a question, and in truth she hadn’t really meant to say it aloud at all.
“The Tandem game,” he told her quietly, “that was me. I was going to lead you there and be done with it. Be free.”
Amid Stars and Darkness Page 20
