by Theresa Kay
When the truck disappears down the driveway, I straighten, take the three steps to Flint, and place my hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t like this,” Flint says. “He doesn’t act like himself when Jastren’s around.”
I squeeze his bicep. “I know. I think it’s new to him still. The mental connection can be… overwhelming.”
“But even when you were with Lir—” He tilts his head and cracks his knuckles. “Sorry. It’s just… you never acted like that. You were always you, even when he was around. But Jace… It’s like he’s some other person, like he’s not the guy I fell in love with anymore. I miss him.”
My heart floods with sympathy. I wish I knew how to fix this, but the only thing I can think of to say is, “He’s been through a lot.”
Flint raises his head and meets my eyes. “So have you.”
I shrug. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Do I think he’s acting strangely? Yes. But I also think it will work itself out.” My mouth tilts up and I nudge him with my shoulder. “I mean, look how far I’ve come. It just took time.”
A grateful smile appears on his lips and he throws an arm over my shoulders, tugging me to his side. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” I sigh. “And I’m sorry for putting you in the middle of all our battles.”
He chuckles and pulls me closer. “All a part of sibling rivalry, right?” Moving his arm away, he clasps his hands together over his chest and dramatically flutters his eyes. “Fighting over poor little me? At least I know you care.”
I smack his arm. “Hey, it’s not my fault my family’s dysfunctional.”
“Dysfunctional?” He lifts his eyebrows. “Nah, you two are the most functional family I know. You might fight, but you love each other.”
“Don’t you mean us three? You aren’t getting out of this. Now you’re my brother too.”
His eyes soften and a grin takes over his face. “I always wanted a pesky little sister.”
“Who you calling little?” I give him a shove and take off into the trees, calling out over my shoulder, “Well, come on then. You think you can take me? I bet you can’t even catch me.”
“You’re on!” he yells from behind me.
I duck under branches and dart around trees, leaving Flint well behind me in my mad dash. He doesn’t have much of a chance at catching me unless I let him. I might not have all the benefits of my heritage, but I am a bit faster than a normal human.
Pausing, I hide behind a large rock and wait for the rustling noises to get closer before I pop out from behind it. “Boo!”
The thrill of the chase, my elation, and my laugh wash away as stark cold fear, laced with icy tendrils of guilt, slams into me. The playful smile drops from my face. It’s not Flint who has found me. Not blond hair, but a true deep gold. Not blue eyes, but inhuman golden ones to match the hair.
Rym.
Vitrad’s son. Lir’s cousin and good friend.
The one I left for dead after a brutal mental gutting.
RYM’S EYES ARE DIM and his face drawn. There’s a new hardness about his features that wasn’t there before. At least, not in the few times I actually interacted with him. He looks years older than the last time I saw him and his easy smile is absent.
An image of my molten anger flowing into him and driving him to the ground fills my head. Did I cause this change in him? Why is he here? A whisper hides in the back of my mind: And why isn’t Lir? Even if I knew what to say, no words can move past my lips. I take a step back and dart my eyes to the side. What do I do? Run? No, he’s faster than me, and he’d catch me easily. Another step back.
Raising his hands up by his chest, Rym moves backward as my breath catches. “Please,” he says. “I am not here to harm you. Simply to talk.”
A single word makes its way up my frozen throat. “Why?”
He inches forward, and my heartbeat pounds in my ears. “Lir sent me. He—”
Just like that, the ice holding me in place shatters and a fiery anger rips through me. Lir is the enemy. “I have nothing to say to him.”
“You do not understand. There—”
I dig my fingernails into my palms. “I understand all I need to. He lied. He manipulated me. He used me. And when it came down to it, he made his choice.” This is the mantra that’s replayed over and over in my head for the past few weeks: Lied. Used. Betrayed. A pathetic attempt to drown out the memories of green gold eyes and stolen kisses. But Rym’s presence, and the idea that Lir sent him, bring a subtle trickle of hope that shouldn’t be possible in the face of Lir’s underhanded motives and uncertain allegiance. Why can’t I simply hate him and be done with it? Why am I so torn?
“It is not what you think.” One hand reaches out as if to grab mine.
I slide farther back and shove the pain down until it’s behind my walls again. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”
His breath pushes out in a huff. He swallows and drops his hand to his side. “Fine, but I need you to listen to me, and I would prefer to not end up writhing on the ground.”
I wince at the mental image his words call up. “Sorry.”
Rym’s brow furrows. “You are apologizing for…?”
This mimics one of my first conversations with Lir so closely that my stomach twists with the pain of the memory. “For hurting you,” I say softly. “I didn’t mean to.”
His limbs relax slightly and he steps forward again. “I know that. You were not prepared for what happened, and you acted on instinct. The bond… it could not have been pleasant for you when it was broken.”
A puff of air bursts from my mouth, not quite a laugh, but it releases some of my tension. “That’s a bit of an understatement.”
“I am sorry for not finding you sooner that day, to warn you, to prepare you. Something. You should not have had to go through that alone.” He gestures to the woods around him. “You should not have had to do any of this alone. Lir has tried to link with you so he could explain—”
My walls slam back into place. “I’m not interested in his explanation.”
He tilts his head and gives me an exasperated look. “Do you think I could finish a sentence here?”
The sound of a gun cocking comes from my right. “I think she said she wasn’t interested, erk,” says Flint. He takes a few sideways steps until he’s beside me, his gun trained on Rym the entire time.
Rym turns slowly to face him, once again raising his hands. “The gun is unnecessary. I am not armed and I am not here to hurt anyone.” His eyes go to me, pleading. “Tell him I mean no harm, Jax.”
Flint glances at me out of the corner of his eye and raises his eyebrows in question. I pull my lower lip between my teeth and bite down on it as I study Rym. He did help get me and Jace out of the research facility back in the city, and he hasn’t exactly tried to attack me today. This is one of those times when the link would come in handy.
I sigh and give Flint a slight nod. He lowers the gun and moves closer to me until we’re shoulder to shoulder.
“Say what you have to say, Goldilocks.” He glares at Rym. “And then go home.”
“It is not what I have to say. Lir is the one who sent me. He is the one who needs to speak with her.”
“If he has so much to say, then why are you here instead of him?” Flint leans forward, his voice soft and cold.
Rym presses his lips together. His eyes flick back and forth between me and Flint. “My cousin… is unable to leave the city at this time.”
Flint rocks back on his heels and snorts. “Too busy helping his uncle—who’s your father, right?—start a war?”
A brief flare of anger shoots from Rym. “No. Physically unable to leave the city. Lir…” He shakes his head and focuses his gaze on me. “Lir wanted to be here. He wanted to send me long before now, but this was the first time I’ve been able to get out without being noticed. His kitu is still not functional, and even if he could get past the barrier, without you—without the bond—he would not be abl
e to survive out here.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean back against a tree. “So he needs to use me for some sort of escape plan?”
Rym runs his hand over his face and blows out a noisy breath. “No. He cannot leave. I was trying to explain why he was not here, why he did not immediately come to find you after everything that happened. He wants to see you, not for any plan or any ulterior motive, but simply to talk to you. Whatever you believe of him, of his feelings for you… you are wrong.”
“I’m wrong about him bonding with me and then deserting me to support Vitrad?”
“It is not as it seems.”
I straighten and move forward until my face is inches from Rym’s. “It’s been over three weeks. Why bother now? I’m not the same girl Lir fooled into believing him. Does he think he’s going to talk circles around me again? Trick me? For what purpose?”
“Why do you automatically assume the worst? Do you not realize what you shared?” Rym’s next words leak through clenched teeth. “Of course you do not realize—because you know almost nothing about us. You never took the time to learn. And you refuse to listen when someone tries to explain.” His eyes harden. “Tell me, Jax, what repercussions have you suffered from the broken bond? Any at all? Stellan and Vira are dead. Lir’s sister is a prisoner, a pretty bauble for my father to use to force his cooperation. Do you have any idea where he has been in that time? What my father has done to him? You hold all this anger toward Lir and you do not consider what he has lost. You have no idea what he has given up to protect you. And still you question his loyalty? How can you be so selfish?”
I flinch, and the last word echoes in my brain. I thought I was protecting myself from further hurt by pushing Lir out, by trying to forget… but was I just being selfish instead?
“Back off,” Flint says. “She’s been through a lot too.”
Rym cocks his head and sends a glare at Flint. “She did not seem overly upset when I arrived. Are human affections that fickle?” Disgust curls his lips. With a brisk shake of his head, he steps back. “This was a mistake. I will not bother you again.” He presses his lips together and then lowers his chin in a graceful nod. “Farewell and good journey.” He spins and stalks off into the trees.
It’s the finality of that strangely formal phrase that quenches the fire of my anger. “Wait—” I run up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder. Rym jerks to a stop, and his whole body stiffens as if he’s expecting pain from my touch. I drop my hand. “I’m not… I wouldn’t…”
He faces me and meets my eyes, a questioning look on his face.
“What happened before… I didn’t mean to do it. I don’t even know what I did.” Hope and desire compete with doubt and suspicion for control of my mouth. I close my eyes and drop my head. I look up and force back the tears threatening to fall. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
He studies my face for a moment, then his shoulders drop. “You will need to accompany me into the city, and I cannot guarantee your safety. You will have to do everything I say. Can you do that?”
I nod.
Flint walks up behind me and grabs my upper arm, turning me to face him. He pulls me away and off to the side, presumably where he won’t be heard when he says, “This is a horrible idea. He’s not your responsibility.”
“I know that.” I press my teeth into my lower lip and close my eyes. “But… I want to see him too.”
And there’s the truth, finally out. One of the many secrets I’ve hidden from my brother, from Jastren, from Flint, and maybe a little from myself as well. I had to be strong. I had to be whole. There was no time for wallowing. Peter told me I didn’t need to feel guilty for my affection for Lir, but it still festered deep in my subconscious. And the longer it was pushed down, the more effort it took to hold back the flood of anger and sadness that threatened to overwhelm me. Now, saying my desire out loud has brought all my emotions crashing down around me.
Turning away, I squeeze my burning eyes closed, take a deep breath, and wait, hands fisted and teeth clenched, for the judgment, the scorn, the derision. I wait to be told how stupid and naive I am—because after everything that happened, I still desperately crave my alien boy with the emerald eyes.
Flint pulls me into a hug and talks quietly into my ear. “It’s okay. It’s not like I didn’t already know, even if you didn’t tell me. Plus, I’m the last person to say anything about who to love. I just want you to be safe.”
I exhale and, for the first time in a long while, fully relax. “Why don’t you come with me?” I pull back and call to Rym. “He can come, right?”
A hardness has returned to Rym’s eyes, but confusion lingers in their depths as well. “You wish to bring…?”
I nod, and Flint crosses his arms over his chest.
“The ship is… rather small,” Rym says.
“Ship?” I ask.
Rym’s brow furrows. “Did you expect us to walk there? The ship is only meant to seat two and—”
“She’s not going anywhere without me,” says Flint. “Been there, done that, and it didn’t end very well.”
Rym’s eyes dart between me and Flint. “It will be a tight fit, but I suppose I can get you both in.” He tilts his head to the side. “Your companion will have to wait in the ship when we get there though. You may be able to walk down the street relatively undetected, but there is no way to disguise him.”
Flint opens his mouth, probably to protest, and I place a hand on his chest, stopping him. He gives me a dirty look, but stays quiet.
“That’s fine,” I say. “Where are you… parked?”
Rym focuses on my hand for a moment before briskly shaking his head. “Follow me.”
He wasn’t kidding about the tight fit. The tiny silver ship Rym leads us to is a much smaller version of the silver pod I rode in on my last trip to the city, though apparently this one flies. It has a single benchlike seat and the door can just barely slide into place with the three of us in it. Even with my torso twisted sideways, my shoulders still bump against both boys.
Rym’s jaw is tight and he tries to angle himself away from me, even though there’s really nowhere for him to go. What is with him? Granted, I haven’t spent much time with him before, but it’s almost as if he thinks I’m infectious or something.
“I’m not gonna bite, you know,” I say. “Would you be more comfortable if I sat on Flint’s lap?”
A frigid splash of alarm followed by a wave of confusion. “I do not believe that is necessary.” He shifts in the seat and leans toward the metal panel set in the center of the panel below the curved window in front of him. “I simply would prefer to avoid any further complications.”
“Complications? Hold on a minute…” I reach forward and place one hand on his extended arm, the one with his kitu. “What—”
Rym snatches his arm away as if I burned him, then turns fully until I’m facing him. It’s not like I don’t have issues with people touching me, but I’ve never seen someone else react that way. Is he… scared of me? The image of him falling to the ground while whatever’s inside of me poured into him flashes through my mind. It would be understandable if he is.
“I’m not going to…”—I slide my eyes to the side and raise my eyebrows—“… do that.”
His lips push out as he sighs. “I know. But…” And the head tilt again. “Have you not noticed that casual touching is not something we do?”
“What are you talking about? Lir…” Heat takes over my cheeks. “Lir touched me all the time.”
Flint’s head swings quickly in my direction and he blinks rapidly. “Excuse me?”
I shake my head. “I don’t mean—He—I—” I run one hand over my reddening face while words fight for order in my brain.
Flint snorts, but he tries to cover it with a cough. “I haven’t seen you this flustered since Emily asked you to come to sewing circle.”
I shoot him a glare and punch him in the arm. “Shut up.” A deep breath with a l
ong exhale. “What I meant was, no, I didn’t notice that. Lir never seemed to have a problem with it and…” I search my memories for another example. “Even you grabbed my hand when we first met.”
“That is true,” says Rym, “but I thought you were human at the time.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You are aware of the link that can form between two E’rikon, correct?”
“Well, yeah. Isn’t the link always there though?” I mentally run through all my experiences and interactions with the aliens, trying to figure out what he’s trying to say.
“And you know the difference between the link, the dhama, and a broadcast?”
“Uh…”
Rym shakes his head. “Did he really not explain anything to you? You are cute and all, but I find it hard to believe my cousin was so distracted by you that he neglected to tell you the basics.” Indignation flares and I open my mouth to send a verbal barb his way, but Rym chuckles. “I get it. No need to defend him, but nice to know you would.” He winks. “You at least understand the bond, correct?”
“I guess so. It’s similar to the dhama but… more.” My fingers just became very interesting to me. I twist them in my lap and avoid both boys’ eyes. “It’s like a mental marriage… or something.”
“Hold up,” says Flint, his hands up by his chest as he stares at me in surprise. “Why do you understand what that is and not all the rest?”
I close my eyes and pull my shoulders forward. “Well…”
“He does not know?” Rym asks. Something—maybe shock?—flows from him.
I peek up at Flint from the corner of my eye. “We kinda had one. A bond, I mean.” I straighten and press my lips together, swallowing back the emotion threatening to choke me. “Not anymore.”
“But—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” My words are hard and precise. I punctuate the statement with a narrow-eyed glare. “So drop it.”
Flint squints at me, a searching look on his face. “Whatever you say. But we will talk about this. It might be important for”—his eyes flick to Rym—“Jace to know about this.”
