Trickskin

by Amelia R. Moore

  Nolan sucked in a breath, likely about to say something disapproving of the latter comment.

  Loken cut him off by asking, “Why wouldn’t you tell me what your last lie was?”

  “What!” Nolan exclaimed. “Didn’t we agree not to ask the same questions?”

  “I didn’t. I’m asking for your motivations now. Do try to keep up.”

  An unreadable emotion lit Nolan’s baby blues, like he’d found an unexpected gift. “Alright. You got me.” He toyed with the shot glass before saying, “I didn’t want to answer because then I’d have to admit the last lie I told was to you. Well, a lie of omission, really.”

  Loken tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest and the voice in his head ready to whisper ‘I told you so.’

  “When you asked me why I was helping you, I may have left out two things...”

  Oh, this was new. Nolan was uncomfortable. Loken felt predatory satisfaction and latched onto this moment, savoring it. “Oh?” he prodded.

  “The first is pretty lame, but I like feeling part of something...more. Human condition, I guess. I know it’s not amazing to you—you probably meet other sentient species all the time—but this is pretty much a first for Earth. Or modern Earth, depending on your beliefs.”

  Loken rolled his eyes but not out of offense. He understood the curiosity that drove Ian Nolan (he’d seen it firsthand), and the inventor was far from the first human to seek him out for curiosity’s sake. “And the second reason?”

  “Oh, right.” Nolan debated something and then said, “I like you. It seemed a poor time to mention it, considering what you’re going through, and it’s not exactly relevant since I’d be helping anyway.”

  Loken frowned, trying to decipher what ‘like’ meant in this context.

  “Anyway, what’s the worst sin you’ve ever committed?” Nolan asked, continuing the game.

  Letting the conundrum drop—though he’d keep it in mind—Loken debated his answer. It was a good question, albeit one he didn’t want to answer. He was drowning in sin. How could he pick and choose which was the worst? He’d brought conflict to Rellaeria’s doorstep, disinherited his family, disobeyed his king by fleeing his punishment (consequently committing treason), and possibly abandoned the residents of Rellaeria to a war with the Drakain. Then, to top it off, he’d attempted the greatest act of cowardice not once but twice—and it still called to him.

  After discovering his true value—a child worth stealing but not worth keeping—he’d prayed worldwalking would kill him. A slow, torturous death, torn apart by the failing of his own maedir (a gift and curse that had made him equally ridiculed as he was feared), was only fitting for someone so disgustingly flawed.

  “Being born,” he mumbled before downing a shot of scotch. Ignoring the sad look Nolan gave him, Loken raised a brow and asked the most distracting question he could think of. “How many times have you tried to catch a glimpse of my chest?”

  Nolan choked. “Uh, why do I get the feeling I’d wake up as a frog if I answered that?” He fleetingly eyed the shot glass. “Normally, I'd bow to conventional wisdom and plead the fifth...but this is war!” Standing tall for dramatic effect, he said, “Eleven. No, wait. Now, it's twelve.”

  Loken rolled his eyes, amused by the theatrics.

  “If you could do anything with your life, no limitations or consequences, what would it be?” Nolan asked.

  Hm. An unexpected inquiry. Truthfully, Loken hadn't a clue what he would do with the life he still wasn't sure was worth living. Melancholy and apathy made it hard to envision a future. “I was trained to infiltrate, to fight, and to negotiate.” And he was proud of his skills, but was that to be his life? The thrill of battle was fleeting, and though there was little as fulfilling as using his sly tongue to outwit a foe, did he want that to be his life? He’d been raised to know his place, a political advisor and right hand man to his brother, the future king.

  On Earth, there was no one to dictate his life.

  Freedom, at the moment, was rather daunting.

  “The Rellaerian royal package, huh?” Nolan joked. “So, you'd go back to ALPHA?”

  Would he? Almost everyone he knew was connected to ALPHA. Not to mention that Eloy and Raaum were field agents. Still, the prospect filled him with dread. “Do I have a choice?” he groused bitterly.

  “Yeah,” Nolan said with conviction. “You do.”

  “Then, no.” At least, not for now. Loken had spent his life a weapon for both of the worlds he'd tried to call home. Rellaeria had kidnapped him, indoctrinated him, and used his talents for their personal gain. Then, ALPHA had disrupted his life and strong armed him into joining their agents.

  He was tired of waiting to be allowed to choose his own path.

  Nolan looked satisfied. “Then, it's settled. Did you sign a contract with them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Alright. I’ll get a copy and send it to my lawyers. That’s what I pay them for. Boring legal garbage. We’ll get you out of it, and while you figure out what you wanna do with your life, you can squat here. It’s not like I don’t have the space. Now, let's drink to your soon-found-freedom and call a truce.”

  Nolan refilled the shot glasses and raised his.

  Loken mirrored the motion, and they drank.

  Then, Nolan climbed out of the pool and collected the glasses. “Alright, Princess. Bedtime. We need our beauty rest.”

  Tired as he was, Loken didn't protest when Nolan aided him out of the hot tub, supported him as he dried off, and then escorted him to the common floor. Danika was still asleep on the couch, and Nolan left for his own bed after giving Loken a large t-shirt to change into.

  Loken didn't miss that it seemed to be another garment borrowed from the inventor’s personal wardrobe.

  Lying down on the couch with Danika, their legs crossed, he was asleep as soon as he dragged the covers over his body.

  Chapter 15

  Unrelenting bleakness greeted him when he woke, and he wondered when he’d stop waking to the realization that what had come before wasn’t a dream. That most of his shame was laid bare for all to see, his carefully guarded secrets stripped away. While living on the ALPHA compound, as he teetered on the edge of wakefulness, he’d mistakenly think he was back on Rellaeria in his own rooms. The pain of realizing he was no longer home was nothing compared to this bone-deep shame.

  When he finally opened his eyes, he saw that Danika was gone. Likely, she was partially responsible for the clinking and sizzling he could hear from the kitchen. He inhaled and sampled the smell of golden-brown pancakes.

  Likely, he would be expected to partake in the meal, but he wasn't hungry. Despite the medication, his jaw ached, and, overall, the idea of eating seemed like too much effort.

  Loud, abrupt music shattered his melancholy. “Jim Dylan! Just the guy I've been looking for!” Nolan said with false cheer, his voice coming from across the room.

  Loken’s acute hearing enabled him to catch the man's growled reply through the phone. “You hacked into Agent Callum’s computer.”

  “Jim! I'm shocked. You think I’d do something like that? Wow. That is hurtful.” A pause. “And, even if I did, which I didn't, I only took what Lyall has a legal right to. The contract.”

  “I know he's with you, Nolan, but you'll notice we haven't stormed your compound yet. We’re giving you the benefit of the doubt—”

  “Finders keepers,” Nolan mocked, seemingly not intimidated. Loken’s heart, on the other hand, pounded in his chest. “Your loss, my gain.”

  Dylan bit off a growl. “Don't make this your problem.”

  “Don't touch my stuff,” Nolan countered.

  The ridiculously childish comment pushed Jim Dylan over the edge, likely as Nolan intended. Loken would have laughed if not for the confusing mixture of indignation and fear festering in his chest.

  “I want to talk to him. Now, Nolan. Or so help me—”

  “Not gonna happen, but don't worry. My lawye
r will be in contact.”

  “Lawyer!” The man was outraged.

  “Yeah, you know. A person who takes out the trash. Wait. Isn’t that a sanitary specialist?” Nolan feigned confusion.

  “This isn't going to end the way you think it will,” Jim Dylan warned.

  “Yeah, it will,” Nolan said matter-of-factly. “I'll take you to court if I have to, but you won't let it get that far, will you? Can't let the public know we've got an extraterrestrial among us. So, I win.”

  “This isn't a game! It’s a matter of national security.”

  Nolan scoffed. “Lyall isn't going to tell anyone about your super secret spy club. Bye, Jim.”

  Loken heard a small crash and assumed Nolan had tossed his phone onto the counter.

  “So, that sounded good…” Danika said, shifting a pan around on the stove.

  “It'll be fine. I sent the contract to my lawyer. We'll get it figured out, one crisis at a time.”

  “Excuse you. I’m a college student,” Danika said with mock offense. “I prefer to handle crises piled right on top of each other. Just one right after another until I collapse under the stress, drop out, and live out of a cardboard box for the rest of my life.”

  “Wow, that was oddly specific. Got your life all planned out, hm? I like a woman with direction.”

  Danika snorted. “Hey, wait! Don’t take the last of the coffee! That’s for—”

  “—Lail. I know. I got this.”

  “Don’t forget the sugar—”

  “—And cream. Half-n-half to be exact.”

  They both remembered how he liked his coffee? Confusion, discomfort, and flattery made for an unusual combination.

  Upon realizing Nolan was approaching, he pretended to be asleep. He was in no mood for food or company, and the knowledge that ALPHA was actively seeking him out made his skin crawl.

  “Lail, I’m seventy percent certain you’re awake right now. I wasn’t exactly quiet on the phone, and Danika is like an elephant in that kitchen.”

  “Hey!” she protested. “Just for that, you’re getting the burnt pancake!”

  Since he clearly wasn’t going to be getting anymore sleep, Loken acquiesced by calling out, “Empty threat. You’d never burn a pancake.”

  Nolan laughed, and Loken opened his eyes to find he was being offered a cup of coffee. Woefully underdressed, he carefully used the covers as a barrier and accepted the rainbow designed mug. Eating would be difficult, between his jaw and the anxiety over ALPHA, but sipping coffee was easy enough.

  He gave it a taste test and was pleased by the sweet warmth, exactly as he liked it. It was difficult not to be mildly impressed.

  “So, the compound is basically empty. Everyone has taken off to do their thing for the day. Oh, and here.” Nolan took a phone out of his pocket and placed it on the end table. “All of their numbers are in here. So is Harvey’s. You know how to work a phone?”

  “I’m not an imbecile.” Loken had a vague idea of how to do so. It would be similar to the tablet, wouldn’t it?

  “Great. Let’s pretend that’s the question I asked,” Nolan replied. “Nora said to tell you to text her when you’re up. Something about clothes. Speaking of which, Danika said you probably need some. So I figured I’d give you ladies my card, and you can do that online after breakfast. While you wait for Harvey to get here.”

  Danika sighed loudly. “Men. They just don’t understand how hard it is to shop online when you have boobs. Some shirts just don't fit right. You don't know about titspace.”

  “Sounds like a ride at Universal.”

  Loken rolled his eyes at their banter and turned to Nolan, taking issue with the additional charity. “I don’t need your money.”

  Nolan made a sound of disagreement. “Actually, you do. ALPHA had your account frozen. Don’t worry. I’m handling it. In the meantime, you can take a loan from the Bank of Nolan.”

  “The bank of friendship!” Danika called out.

  They laughed, but Loken didn't join in. The ‘I’m handling it’ comment didn’t sit well with him. “I’m no damsel, Nolan. I don't need you to intercept ALPHA for me.”

  The inventor had the good sense to look apologetic. “You have enough things to worry about.”

  So, Nolan thought he was fragile? Too ruled by emotion to handle his own business? It stung because it was partially true. Loken’s rampant melancholy was making it difficult to handle his affairs, to want to handle his affairs, and the fact that Nolan had been able to do it so efficiently was pride-wounding.

  He wasn't accustomed to needing or accepting help.

  “That's not for you to decide,” Loken settled on saying.

  “This might turn into a legal mess,” Nolan argued. “I'm not trying to overstep my bounds—"

  “Except that you are.”

  Nolan looked frustrated. “I know it's asking for a lot, but I need you to trust me on this. ALPHA can't touch me. They're griping and groaning, but at the end of the day, they're not gonna do shit. Just in case, though, I have my lawyer working overtime on your contract. I'm expecting a callback today.”

  “You're either insane or idiotic,” Loken said heatedly. “Standing in ALPHA’s way. For what? For a creature you think you know—"

  “Hey!” Danika shouted, marching over with a metal spatula brandished at him. “That's my friend you just insulted! Don't call yourself names!”

  Nolan took advantage of Loken’s bafflement to say, “It's confidence, Lail. ALPHA is a secret organization, and I can call one person and have press conference in less than an hour. If they push, I could expose them, and they don't want that.”

  Yes. Loken had witnessed Nolan’s influence firsthand. How ALPHA was interested in protecting and appeasing him—

  Suddenly, Loken recalled the bargain he’d made with Nolan for sanctuary from ALPHA, should he ever need it, and the inventor’s actions made more sense. Fulfilling a contractual agreement was something Loken could understand, so he relaxed ever so slightly....until he remembered Nolan’s late night confession. “I like you.” Had Nolan been attempting to hint at an alternative form of payment? After all, Loken hadn’t finished delivering on the projects they’d started.

  “Very well,” Loken said eventually, unaware of how long he'd been lost in thought.

  “Great. Now that that's settled, let's eat.”

  Loken didn't move. He was neither hungry nor in the mood to explain where his clothes had gone. Yet he was stranded on the couch without aid, so, rather than prolong his discomfort, he looked to Danika.

  “If you could help me to our suite, I'd like to change first.”

  “Oh. Sure. No problem.” When she came around to help him stand, he saw her frown at his wardrobe (or lack thereof). Apart from the shirt he'd borrowed from Nolan, he was bare.

  Danika turned to Nolan and waved him off. “Shoo. Go eat.”

  Nolan pouted exaggeratedly but did so, and, with Loken wrapped up in the blanket, Danka helped him back to their suite. This time, though he still strived to look his best, he spent less time fussing: black pants, a v-neck shirt of the emerald variety, and dark hair worn loosely.

  “So, gonna tell me what happened to my skirt?” Danika asked, one brow raised.

  “I couldn't sleep. Nolan was awake. We drank in the hot tub.”

  “Okay,” Danika said, stressing the vowel. “First off, you probably shouldn't be drinking. It doesn't help with depression or medication. Secondly, he totally likes you.” She frowned abruptly. “Do you like men? Romantically?”

  Like. So, to like someone meant you desired them romantically? As he made note of that, he saw something in Danika’s expression that he couldn't read. “I don't have a preference,” he answered.

  “Oh. Okay.” And just like that, whatever had been bothering her disappeared. “Is that typical on Rellaeria?”

  Bitterness welled inside of him, but he kept it from his voice when he said, “My dear, you can assume nothing about me is typical for an Ev
oir.” Because I'm not one, remember?

  Danika seemed to read his mood because she ceased the topic. “Come on. Wanna walk back on your own?”

  Loken waved her off, stood with effort, and began the slow walk back to the common floor with Danika trailing him. It was frustratingly taxing, but he managed it. He immediately headed for the table, ignoring Nolan who was enjoying a stack of pancakes.

  As he sat down and tried to think of a way to decline partaking in breakfast—he wasn't certain aggravating his jaw was wise—Danika set a bowl of oatmeal in front of him. Thin slices of strawberries and bananas decorated the rim.

  Hunger won out, and he found that the oatmeal (though far from a quality meal) was easy to eat. After they’d eaten, Nolan abandoned them for his workshop.

  Loken picked at bite size pieces of fruit while Danika set up her laptop, so they could browse for clothes (with Nolan’s card). Since he already had clothes for his male Evoir form, he shopped for his current state and purchased only the minimum—despite Danika’s attempts to get him to splurge.

  Jeremy came up just before Harvey was due to arrive and checked the IV, replacing the medication. “How's your jaw?”

  Loken didn't want to say it felt worse, so he said, “The same.”

  Apparently that wasn't what Jeremy was hoping to hear. “We should really discuss surgery as an option.”

  When Loken bared his teeth in response, Danika intervened to mediate. “He's going to discuss it with Dr. Partridge today.”

  “No, he isn't,” Loken corrected, irritated at being treated as if he were an invalid.

  Danika shot him a look.

  Jeremy didn't look impressed. “We should do it before the holidays, if possible.”

  A pout formed on Danika’s face. “Before Christmas? But there's holiday traditions to build! He can't miss his first Christmas!”

  The doctor sighed. “It should be done sooner, but I suppose we could do it after. Just keep an eye on it, and let me know.”