Fractured Suns

by Theresa Kay

  “Mitchell. But call me Jax. Drop all the weird formalities and just tell me what I need to do to get you to release Flint.”

  Gavin raises his eyebrows. “Mr. Jacobs gave my men the impression that you were his wife. Was that a lie?”

  “Yes. Well, no—not technically.” I huff out a breath and shake my head. “Dane put us up on that stage and joined our hands and all that, but we’re not…” That quiet staring thing he’s doing is more effective than an actual interrogation. My mouth doesn’t know whether to be defensive or not, and it certainly doesn’t know when to shut up. “There’s someone else anyway. For both of us.”

  He nods and presses his fingers together under his chin. “I see.” I shift in the chair and avert my eyes. “Mr. Jacobs also claims that your party came here to warn us of an impending attack by the E’rikon. Is that true?”

  “Yes.”

  His chair makes a clanking noise when he leans forward. “What possible reason would they have for attacking anyone? They’ve left us alone so far.” He cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes as he waits for my answer.

  What to tell him… “Well, they attacked a… camp, where Stu lived. Stu showed up at Peter’s house and—”

  “Who’s Peter?”

  “He’s a priest. Well, not really anymore. That’s where we were staying while Jace recovered—my brother. He had—he has a broken leg.”

  “Is this the same brother Miss Fletcher indicated had been taken by the E’rikon?”

  “Yes.”

  He lowers his chin as if I gave the answer he expected. “Are you aware that you seriously injured one of my men? Patrick Larson is a loyal soldier and a friend. You attacked him, unprovoked. Not to mention, your… whatever he is to you… is the son of the man who has murdered many, many people. What do you think I should do in this situation?”

  “Release him and let us go on our way?” I shrug my shoulders and bite my lip.

  Gavin’s laugh transforms his face. His eyes brighten and a bit of the stark exhaustion leaves his features. “How straightforward of you.” He smiles and shakes his head. “A bit optimistic though. How do you think it would look if I just let him go? Especially now that everyone knows he’s here?”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “And whose fault is that?”

  He leans forward, suddenly serious again. “His. He’s the one who marched up to my soldiers and threw his father’s name around like an entry ticket.” One hand runs down the side of his face and over his chin. “You’ve put me in a tight spot here, Jax. I’m sure Emily has explained how I came to be here, and it’s only with the goodwill of the people here that I maintain order. That little display out there challenged my men and my authority here. Not to mention, I’ve already received requests from community members regarding Mr. Jacobs’s fate. To give in now, to simply release him… It would not go over well.”

  Dread curls in my stomach and I have to swallow twice before I can ask my next question. “Are you… going to execute him?”

  Gavin jerks back and gapes at me. “Is that really what justice was like here?” Running his hand through his hair, he sighs. “That’s not what we stand for, and that’s not who I am. I just… Have you traveled much?” He shakes his head and continues without waiting for an answer. “Of course you haven’t. Well I have, and I can tell you that not all settlements are like this one. Most believe in democracy and trials and…” He blows out a loud breath. “Your friend will stand trial here. If found guilty, he will accompany me back to our base as soon as I’ve ensured that his father is no longer a threat to these people.”

  He looks at me as if he pities me, as if he thinks I’m an idiot. It’s irritating, and my temper rears its head. “And who appointed you to do this? And right now? I think there are much bigger problems headed this way than anything Dane has done. And—”

  “Much bigger problems than mass murder? Because that’s what he’s been doing. In the past year, three other human settlements have been destroyed. By Dane Jacobs. Men, women, and children all dead when we have absolutely none to spare. As to who appointed me? My superiors and what’s left of the US Army.” His voice has crept up in volume, each word getting tenser and tenser as redness fills his face. “Before you question my motives, why don’t you answer a few questions first? Like where exactly have you been? And why did you choose this particular point in time to show up? What are you not telling me?”

  Heat fills me and I shoot to my feet. “I told you where I’ve been. I told you why we’re here.” I place both hands on the desk and lean across it until I’m only inches from his face. “And there’s a whole damn lot I haven’t told you, but not only is it stuff you don’t need to know, it’s stuff you don’t deserve to know. At least not when you’re holding my best friend captive. We’ve all made mistakes, but he can’t help who his father is any more than I can. You want a villain? You’ve got Daniel running around free out there, and he was more Dane’s crony than Flint was.”

  The words hang between us as my chest rises and falls with the panting of my breath. I don’t move back and neither does he, instead choosing to hold my stare with his own.

  “Obviously you feel very strongly about Mr. Jacobs’s innocence.” He releases a long breath. “If it were that simple, please believe I would release him.” He relaxes back into his chair, still holding my gaze. His voice drops and his tone goes from hostile to… resigned. “Daniel Cartuck was not present during our initial assault, and he has provided me with valuable information since. Do you truly believe he is a threat?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  He sits there with an open expression on his face as if we weren’t just screaming at each other moments ago. It’s unnerving, and I have to plop back into the chair behind me in order to get my bearings. My gaze breaks from his and goes down to the papers on the desk. One’s a map and the others all look like lists of supplies or something with numbers scribbled in the margins and the words “47 days” circled in red.

  “Supply problems?” I ask.

  “Yes.” He looks down at the papers, running one finger along the column of numbers. “And now I need to work four new mouths into my calculations.”

  “Four?” A simple raise of his eyebrows and I can answer my own question. “I guess you don’t starve your prisoners either.”

  “No. I do not.” He rests his head in his hand for a moment before meeting my eyes again. He doesn’t bother trying to hide the worry and exhaustion I see there. “I can assure you, Mr. Jacobs will be treated fairly while he is here. And I’m sorry for my outburst.” He waves his hands over the desk. “My unit was only supposed to get into Bridgelake, and then my superiors were supposed to send others to take care of running everything. But with the advanced timetable, due to Miss Fletcher’s welcomed but ill-timed assistance… well, as you can see I’m a bit overwhelmed, and you’ve basically just told me that someone whose loyalty I’ve heavily relied on can’t be trusted.” Slumping down into the chair, he sighs. “This assignment has been much more complicated than it was supposed to be.”

  This is one of those times when I wish I understood people better. What does he expect me to say? Why is he telling me this? “Sorry?”

  A wry grin appears on his face, and for the first time I notice how very young he is. Is this the type of position Lir was supposed to take for the E’rikon? Were his father’s footsteps this deep and hard to fill? The city is much bigger than Bridgelake, and there is much more he would have to have done to run it. Whether my alien boy wanted that future or not, he lost it all because of me. I’m hit by a sudden pang of longing for him… and the desire to make things easier on the other boy in front of me.

  “As long as you promise me he’ll be treated fairly and quickly, I won’t argue with you on the trial bit. But you at least have to let me visit him, let him know what’s going on.”

  “Done,” says Gavin. “As long as you’re willing to fill me in on what you’ve learned about the E’rikon.” I
start to respond, but he holds up a hand. “Take a few days to rest. Visit with your friend. I want to put your fears at ease, show you I’m not that horrible, that I deserve the information you have to give.” He rises from his chair and calls the man outside the door into the office. “Holmes, please escort Miss… Jax back to Miss Fletcher’s house.”

  “Yes, sir.” Great. I’m going to be stuck with the oaf for company.

  Gavin must realize I’m about to complain. “Holmes will not physically accost you in any way. It’s for your own safety, since I plan to be looking into the Cartuck situation, and if he’s what you say, I don’t want you to be out there alone. I will set up a time for you to visit with Mr. Jacobs as soon as possible. It just won’t be tonight.”

  As we leave the office, it slowly dawns on me that, negotiation-wise, I lost that one. I gave him much more information than he asked for, agreed to give him even more, and got very little in return—not even a set time or day when I’ll get to see Flint. I glance back over my shoulder to see Gavin back at the desk, his dark head once again bowed over the stack of papers. Either he’s lucky that I often talk before I think, or he’s really good at the subtle interrogation. His gaze comes up and he meets my eyes. One dark eye closes in a wink and a smirk ghosts across his face. There’s the tiniest hint of triumph in that look, as if he knows he won, knows what I’m thinking.

  I shake it off. Not possible. He’s just trying to shift the balance even further in his favor by trying to make me uncomfortable. Damned arrogant male. I shoot him a dirty look. He throws his head back and laughs.

  THE WALK IS QUIET, nothing but the sound of our feet crunching through the snow that fell while I was in Gavin’s office. I expect Holmes to lead me along the back route to avoid onlookers, kind of like the one I took on the way here, but I’m surprised when he leads me right through the square, past groups of people who smile at him but send me wary looks. I suppose this is another way for Gavin to demonstrate how not like Dane he is, how the people here are much happier than they were under Dane. I didn’t really need any more convincing on that point. Manipulative or not, Gavin at least seems to be fair, and that’s already much more than Dane could claim.

  “So, great weather we’re having, huh?” It’s a stupid thing to say, but the silence is beginning to get to me and I should at least make an attempt to get some more information.

  Holmes stiffens, but doesn’t answer.

  “Your boss back there, he’s an interesting character. How long have you been with him?”

  Still no answer.

  An edge of irritation creeps into my words. “Okay then. I guess I’ll leave you to your brooding.”

  When he finally speaks, his voice is soft, but laced with anger. “I’m not brooding. I just don’t take kindly to people drawing knives on my friends. You could have killed him.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t take kindly to people grabbing me. It never ends well for them.”

  He stops so suddenly I run into his back—a very large, hard back. I bounce backward and land on my butt in the deep snow bank edging the cleared pathway, sinking down until I’m almost folded in half. My arms flail as I try to push myself up and out, but all I seem to be doing is digging myself in deeper.

  “A little help here?”

  He looks back at me over his shoulder. “I think you’ve got it under control. I wouldn’t want to grab you.”

  I roll my eyes and huff. “Jerk.”

  It takes a minute or so, but I finally work my way out of the snow. I stomp my boots and fluff the skirt out to try to shake loose the cold wetness that had found its way underneath. And then we’re plodding along again.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “For hurting your friend. Patrick, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah.” The air feels lighter now, as if it’s relaxed, and I have too. I didn’t mean to hurt anybody, and I hate people thinking that’s who I am. Besides, Emily’s convinced these guys are okay, and she’s never led me wrong. Except for the whole sewing thing. And this idiotic skirt. I try to discreetly pull it away from my freezing butt. The wet fabric is pressing the snow still lodged in my underwear against my skin.

  “Why are you walking like that?” Holmes says.

  Not so discreet then. “You fall up to your waist in snow in a stupid skirt and we’ll see how you walk afterward, Holmes.”

  Holmes chuckles, but he doesn’t say anything else until we reach Emily’s front door. “Call me Harrison,” he says. “Only Gavin keeps up with that last name crap. Thinks it makes him sound more official or something.” His voice grows softer. “He’s a good man. A good leader. He knows what he’s doing here.”

  I fight back my smile. “No indoctrination necessary. He made his point, and we understand each other for now. Doesn’t mean I agree with this whole trial thing, but I’ll go along with it for now.”

  Harrison nods and takes off back the way we came.

  I stride past Emily and Stu, who are sitting on the couch chatting, and head straight back to the room Emily indicated earlier was going to be mine. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone, and though my head is spinning, it’s also throbbing, and all I really want to do is go to sleep.

  I don’t bother to change, just kick my boots off and collapse onto the bed.

  I sleep for a long time. When I wake, my leg muscles scream at me for what I put them through yesterday. My arms aren’t quite as sore, but they’re stiff, and it takes a lot of effort and a couple groans before I manage to swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit up. I pull on the jeans and shirt Emily found for me and shuffle into the kitchen, where I collapse onto a chair and nodding a greeting at Stu.

  “Morning,” he says. He brings a mug up to his lips and takes a drink. “Sleep okay?”

  I haven’t quite decided how to handle him without Flint around to act as some sort of buffer. Do I act like nothing happened? Do I treat him like a friend? We had our moments on the trip. That blind, burning hatred in his eyes has disappeared, and he seems to have found some respect for me or something after I ran off and ended up rescuing Ethan. It was almost as if he was trying to protect me yesterday. Or maybe he’s afraid of me, of what I did to that guy…

  He clears his throat and I’m jerked out of my thoughts.

  “Um, yeah. I guess so,” I mumble.

  “Good.” His voice trails off as he glances down at his hands curled around the mug. “I think we need to talk. There’s—”

  “Good morning!” says Emily in a much too cheery voice for my aching head.

  Stu and I both mutter greetings back to her, and then Ethan shoots out from behind her and comes bounding into the kitchen. He makes a beeline for Stu and hops onto his lap. A grunt issues from Stu’s mouth, and he adjusts the boy on his lap until the weight is distributed more evenly.

  “Did you know they have chickens here, Mr. Stu? They cluck and lay eggs and everything!”

  Stu chuckles and sets his cup down on the table. “That’s great, little guy. Did you bring us breakfast then?”

  With a little frown, Ethan shakes his head. “Miss Emily says they don’t lay as many eggs in the winter and they have to be saved for people that need them more.”

  Emily steps forward, ruffles his hair, and crouches down on the floor in front of him, a basket hanging from her arm. “Well, I think a growing boy needs at least one egg, right?

  “Can I share it?” Ethan asks hopefully.

  “Well, it’s awfully small. I think you should eat it. The protein will help you grow big and strong,” says Emily.

  “And get big muscles like Mr. Stu, right?” Ethan looks at her expectantly.

  A pink tinge creeps up her neck and into her cheeks. Emily blushing? Emily flustered? My eyes dart back and forth between her and Stu. What did I miss last night? Apparently a lot.

  Emily stands quickly and pats Ethan on the head. “Go get washed up. I’ll get breakfast going.”

  “Okay!” Ethan springs down from Stu’s lap an
d goes running off toward the bathroom.

  And I’m left in the kitchen with both Emily and Stu staring at me. “What?” I ask.

  “Stu told me… what you are,” says Emily. My eyes widen, and she throws her hands up, moving them back and forth in front of her chest. “No, no, no. It’s okay. I don’t have a problem with it or anything. In fact, it actually explains quite a bit.”

  “Have you told anyone else?” My voice hardens. That was my secret to tell, mine to protect, and this is not the place for it to be revealed. Good guy or not, this Gavin guy would probably love nothing more than to add me to his arsenal of weapons to use against Dane. Or maybe even the E’rikon.

  “No,” says Stu. He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head in the direction Ethan went. He hasn’t said anything to her about the kid. “I had to tell her. She went running up to you like it was nothing, and… I’ve seen what you can do.” What? I was perfectly coherent by the time Emily got to me. A little panicked, but still all there. At my confused look, he continues, “You were screaming out in your sleep last night.”

  “No I wasn’t.” There’s no way he can be right. I know my nightmares, and I always remember them at least in fragments. But last night is a complete blank.

  Emily nods. “Screaming might not be the right word for it—more of a loud continuous whimper. You entire body was rigid when I went in, stiff as a board.”

  Could that be why my muscles are so sore? Not from the exertion, but from holding in the tension of whatever was happening to me last night? Is the darkness taking over my sleep now? That simple thought sends ice cold terror crawling into my stomach. What if I hurt someone when I’m asleep? What if I don’t know what I’m doing?

  Emily busies herself with pulling out a pan and setting it on the stove before rummaging around for some bread and other food.

  Stu stands, walks across the kitchen, and leans down to whisper in my ear. “I had Ethan try to draw from you after she went to bed. Nothing happened. He said you just weren’t there.”

  Weren’t there? That’s even more concerning than the idea of my abilities suddenly becoming active when I’m not aware of them.