Ria's Visions (Hearts of ICARUS Book 6)

by Laura Jo Phillips

  “We need to talk on serious matters,” Talon said.

  “Yes, we do,” Ria agreed, surprising them. “Do you want to do it now?”

  “If that’s all right with you, yes,” Talon said. “Otherwise, we can wait.”

  “Now’s fine,” Ria said. “You want to start or shall I?”

  “You choose,” Talon said.

  Ria didn’t even have to think about it. She’d made up her mind to get this out, and she needed to do it before she lost her nerve or changed her mind. “Last night I was trying to figure out what was going on with the three of you, why you were being so nice. I was so tired I could barely think, but I got it right after I woke up this morning. You know I’m your berezi, don’t you?”

  “We know,” Talon agreed. “How long have you known?”

  “Since the day I overheard you talking about me in the cafeteria.”

  Even though Thorn was sure that she hadn’t taken the suppressants for the reasons he’d assumed, he still felt one last bit of tension ease at her answer.

  “How long have you guys known?”

  “Since the day of the explosion.”

  “I don’t get how that’s possible since I never skipped taking a suppressant.” Her face flushed. “Sorry. I just assumed you knew I was taking them, but maybe not.”

  “We figured it out that day.”

  “How?”

  “We’re not really sure. Maybe it was something in the scent of your blood and fear and pain when we found you in the lab that caused our mating fangs to descend. Or maybe it was knowing how badly you were injured. We don’t know what caused our reaction, but that’s the only physical reaction we’ve had.”

  “You thought I took the suppressants because I knew you were my destined Rami, and had a problem with Thorn’s scars. Right?”

  “That’s what I thought,” Thorn said. “I know better now, though we still don’t know why you took them.”

  Ria’s breath caught in her throat. Though she displayed no other reaction, they still noticed it.

  “Your reasons for taking them are your own,” Tee said. “We’d like to know, but we’ll understand if you’d rather not tell us.”

  Ria nodded, appreciating the out. She couldn’t tell them everything, which was a relief because she definitely wasn’t ready to do that now. If ever. But she’d decided to tell them what she could, and that was what she was going to do.

  “Pheromone suppressants were specifically made to prevent female Clan Jasani from being identified and pressed into being mated before they were old enough to know what they wanted. That’s exactly why I began taking them two years ago. I’d decided to go to med school and didn't want to get sidetracked before I finished.”

  “You are no longer studying, and you still take them,” Tee pointed out gently.

  “A couple of weeks before the Leaper reached Jasan I made two decisions. The first was to quit medical school, which I did a week later. I only kept up with my studies because Vari and her Rami made it a condition of my joining this expedition.

  “The second decision I made was to continue taking the suppressants indefinitely. My initial decision to take the suppressants had nothing at all to do with you. I didn’t even know you existed at that time. My decision to continue taking them had nothing to do with you either.” She shook her head. “Maybe that’s not completely true.”

  “Meaning?” Thorn asked.

  “When I heard what you said about me that day in the cafeteria, I was really glad I’d been taking the suppressants. Being identified as berezi by men who hated me wasn’t exactly an appealing thought.”

  “No, I don’t imagine it was,” Tee agreed.

  “Ria,” Talon said, “we’re not going to ask you to tell us anything. Whatever you share with us, must be shared by your choice. But we know something happened to you. Something bad. Something that left you with an aversion to being touched by males, and something that left you with an extremely sensitive startle response.”

  “You’re right,” Ria said. “In addition to the signs you just mentioned, I’ve also lost one of my psychic abilities, and can no longer control the other.”

  She looked up at them, her eyes wide, clearly surprised at herself. “I ask that what I just said stays between us. I’ve never told anyone else that.”

  “You don't even have to ask, Ria,” Talon said. “Anything you tell us is considered private unless you say otherwise.”

  “Thank you.”

  “On the mission vid we saw taken on the Leaper, Vari mentioned that you were capable of soothing people’s grief. And, I must admit, Tee read your transcripts which included the fact that you’re an empath. Is that the ability you lost?”

  Ria nodded, wondering why she wasn’t angry at Tee. After a moment she realized that it was because she trusted them. How that was possible when she’d never exchanged a single word with them before yesterday she didn’t know. It’s probably because I’m their berezi. Yeah, that has to be it. Still, I never trust people. I learned that lesson long ago. It’s kind of strange.

  “What’s your other ability?” Tee asked.

  “No one knows I have another ability.”

  “No one?” Thorn asked. She shook her head slowly, hoping what she was doing wasn’t a mistake. “Is it a new ability?”

  Ria frowned at that. It seemed an odd question. “It just seems unusual to me,” Thorn explained quickly. “I can’t imagine having an ability that I never shared with my brothers.”

  Ria dropped her eyes, shame filling her. She’d always known it was wrong to keep her ability secret from her family, particularly since she’d done it for her own sake rather than theirs.

  “Ria,” Thorn said, his rough voice more familiar to her than his brothers’, and therefore more calming, somehow. She looked up at him. He might sound rough, but she felt the gentleness in him. Now that he’s not angry at me anymore.

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant only that to do such a thing would have been…must have been…very difficult for you.”

  The corners of her mouth turned up and she nodded her understanding. “It wasn’t easy, but it was necessary.” She took a long deep breath. “There are things I’ve never spoken of. To anyone. I would like to share those things with you but it worries me because I’ve never wanted to share them before. I understand it’s because I’m your berezi, but it’s not easy. I don't mean that to be insulting.”

  “We’re not insulted, Ria,” Talon said. “As much as we want to know everything about you, I think you should wait before telling us your secrets. Give yourself time to think, and get to know us better. We don’t want you to have any regrets.”

  “Thank you, Talon, I’ll do that,” she said, something inside of her relaxing. She wanted to tell them everything, but she needed time to make sure it wasn’t just an impulse that she would later regret. “I’ve already decided to tell you what I can about the other subject you brought up, though. About something happening on the Leaper.”

  “All right,” Talon said. “We’d like to know whatever you want to tell us.”

  “You’re right that something happened. And yes, it was bad. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you what it was. Ten minutes ago, before we began this conversation, I was glad of that. Now, I wish I could tell you.”

  “Why can’t you tell us?” Thorn asked. “We will tell no one, on this you have our most solemn promise.”

  “I appreciate that, Thorn. But I can’t tell you because I’m sworn not to.”

  “You’re sworn not to reveal an event that traumatized you?” Tee asked, half surprised, half confused.

  “Yes.”

  “Who did you make this oath to?” Thorn asked.

  Ria tried not to be offended by the question. She could feel their frustration and worry, and knew it wasn’t meant to be insulting.

  “No one you know, and no one on this expedition. Please don’t tell me that I can trust you not to reveal what I say if I tell you anyway, becaus
e I already know I can trust you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be telling you things that I’ve never told another soul in my entire life. Trust is not the issue. I can’t tell you because I swore not to tell anyone. Despite what most people think, I do have some honor. It’s not much, and it’s trampled and torn, but I’d like to hang on to what I little I have left.”

  “Of course you have honor, and a lot more than you give yourself credit for,” Talon said. “We would not deliberately suggest otherwise. We are just…concerned.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a tease. I probably shouldn’t have said anything at all.”

  “No, please don’t say that,” Thorn said. “We’re glad that you trust us enough to tell us as much as you have.”

  “Thanks,” Ria said. She fell silent for a moment, then seemed to make up her mind about something. “I will tell you why I swore to tell no one what happened, but only if you agree not to ask for more. And only if you want to hear it. I don’t want to tease you or make you crazy.”

  “You have my word,” Talon said at once. Thorn and Tee also gave their promises, so Ria took a moment to consider what she could say without breaking the last promise she ever intended to make.

  She pulled her legs up close to her body and wrapped her arms around them before resting her chin on her knees. It was a position of self-protection which worried them, but they didn’t comment on it.

  “As I said, something bad happened, but as bad as it was, it could have been much, much worse, and it very nearly was. It’s only because of help from one person that it wasn’t worse. What that person had to do to save me could have ended in prosecution and severe punishment because there was nothing left to prove our story. So we made a pact that we would never speak of what happened, which I’m cutting very close to the edge of now.”

  “We will not ask you to betray one who aided you, Ria,” Talon said. “There is a question, just one, that I need to ask you. You need only say yes, or no. Whichever answer you give, that will be the end of it.”

  “Okay,” she said hesitantly.

  “Were you raped?”

  Ria shuddered so hard the medi-cot jerked. She took a long deep breath and blew it out before shaking her head slowly. “No,” she whispered.

  There was something in her eyes, in the way her body tightened so that every muscle stood out tautly against her skin, that told them it had been a very close thing. And at the same time, Talon sensed even that hadn’t been the worst of it.

  “It’s time to change the subject,” Tee said.

  “Thank the Creators,” Ria whispered.

  “I’m curious about something else that you may not want to talk about,” Tee said. “If not, please say so.”

  “All right.”

  “What did you mean when you told Vari you were no longer an impulsive child?”

  Ria’s shoulders relaxed a little, the fear of moments ago replaced with sadness. “Up until I was about ten I had a serious problem with impulse control. Are you familiar with that?”

  “No,” Talon said after glancing quickly at his brothers. “I assume it’s what it sounds like.”

  “Yes, it is,” Ria replied. “The inability to control impulses affects a child as a whole, mind and body. Speech, actions, emotions, and everything in between.

  “When I was very young I discovered certain things about myself that I was afraid to reveal. That fear was strong enough that it forced me to develop and maintain rigid control over my emotional and verbal impulses by the time I was five. I’ve read that it’s impossible for a child with impulse control issues like I had to do such a thing, especially at such a young age, but I still did it.

  “I don’t know for certain, but I think that my efforts to control my emotional impulses caused my physical impulses to range wildly out of control for a while. Kind of like a side effect. True or not, I had to work much harder and much longer to control those impulses. Eventually I succeeded, but not until I was about ten.”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you mean by physical impulses,” Thorn said.

  “One day I saw a blackbird land on the roof of the horse barn. I was seven at the time. I wondered what the bird could see from way up there, and as soon as the question entered my head I set out to find the answer. For me, that meant climbing up to where the bird was and looking for myself. There was never a single moment when I stopped to wonder if it was a bad idea, or if I might get hurt. Any other seven-year-old would have fully understood the dangers in such an action, but for me, the impulse precluded rational thought.

  “I made it to the roof but I never did see the view because I fell off and broke my leg. I was lucky I didn’t break my neck. Things like that happened to me on a daily basis, though not always quite as dramatic. I was always in trouble for one thing or another.”

  “You were punished for something you could not control?” Thorn asked with a distinct growl in his voice.

  “Sometimes, and for good reasons, too. I really was something of a menace for a while. My parents even took me to see a doctor, but it was Aunt Hope who helped me the most.”

  “Your godmother,” Tee said. Ria nodded. “How did she help you?”

  “She had impulse control issues as a child herself, so she understood me better than anyone. She gave me hope that one day I might be more normal. More acceptable.”

  Thorn’s eyes burned as he looked up at Talon, and then Tee. It wasn’t easy to hear Ria speak so matter-of-factly about being unacceptable.

  “I loved to read, like Vari said earlier, so Aunt Hope gave me books of old children’s stories with beautiful detailed illustrations. They’re works of art and I still have them.

  “Anyway, the idea was to read a story, then when I felt an impulse, distract myself by thinking about the story. What I liked, what I didn’t, how I wanted it to end. Things like that. It distanced me from the impulse, and gave me a chance to think about it before acting on it.”

  “Smart,” Thorn said, nodding.

  “Yes, it was, and it worked. The impulse to say things I shouldn’t still hits me sometimes, especially when I’m tired or stressed. It’s been much more difficult the past six months or so. I’ve even had to resort to thinking about the stories again, even though, as I said earlier, I have a difficult time remembering them. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff that goes through my head sometimes, but it keeps me from saying a lot of things I know I shouldn’t say.”

  “Your family doesn’t recognize that you’re no longer the impulsive child you once were, even after all your efforts?” Thorn asked.

  “No, they don’t,” she said, a note of sadness in her voice. “I’m beginning to think they never will.”

  “That’s why Vari said on the mission vid that you would deliberately avoid her if she came after you,” Talon said.

  “Yes,” Ria said. “I didn’t know that until I got home, though. My parents showed me that clip about five minutes after I walked in the door. It was…difficult to discover Vari thought that of me. Even more difficult than it was to discover my parents thought that.”

  “Did you tell them it wasn’t true?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Why?” Tee asked, confused. “Why not tell them the truth?”

  “I want to say it’s because I’m sworn not to.”

  “But?”

  “Even though it’s true, it’s not the whole truth. I don’t usually mind telling people partial or half-truths. Or even lying outright if I need to, though I only lie about myself. That’s bad, I know, but I had to learn from a young age not to say what I really thought, or reveal what I really felt. In order to protect myself, some things had to be kept secret. But I don’t want to do that with you guys.”

  “You honor us, Ria,” Talon said. She attempted to smile, but it was a failed effort. Instead she finished saying what she had to say.

  “Anyway, the whole truth is that I was glad to have my oath to use as an excuse not to tell my parent
s, or even Vari, what really happened because, as shameful as their assumptions were, the truth was…is…even more shameful.”

  That she would feel shame over something that was done to her was extremely difficult for them to accept. That, combined with the deep emotional pain and sadness they felt coming from her was enough to make all three of them want to roar the ceiling down. They were able to control themselves only because of their recent run in the Roar Room.

  Thorn found that while he could control his katrenca, he simply didn’t have the strength to look into Ria’s sad, haunted eyes for another moment without doing something. He didn't want to startle her, or push her into something she wasn’t ready for, so he held his arms out toward her, and waited.

  Ria looked up at his face, but he knew she couldn’t really see his expression. He remained motionless as her eyes traveled down his arms to his hands. She raised her head, lifted her arms away from her legs, then so slowly he thought he’d go mad with waiting, she raised her arms toward him.

  Unable to wait another moment, he reached out and plucked her off the bed and into his arms so fast he even surprised himself. He pulled her close, his eyes stinging as he buried his face in her soft, silky hair, swallowing hard as her face turned into his chest. He turned around so that Tee and Talon could crowd close, knowing their need to hold and comfort was as strong as his own. Talon cupped the back of her head gently in his hand, while Tee placed one hand at the small of her back, the other over her legs.

  As the four of them stood together, drawing from each other, and giving comfort to one another, Thorn felt something slide into place within him. Something that had no name, that couldn’t be seen or identified, but that was so powerful it was nearly tangible.

  He looked up and locked eyes with his brothers, and knew they felt exactly as he did. Maybe it was just that, at long last, their search was over. Or maybe it was that they were physically linked through Ria. It was a faint shadow of what having their souls linked would be, but it was the closest they’d ever come to it, and that made it a precious moment to all of them.

  They had a way to go yet. There was a lot they didn’t know about Ria. A lot they needed to discover before they could begin to help her heal. What frightened her so much as a child that she had to hide herself so completely was the burning question at the top of that list. But now was not the time for that discussion. They had to be patient, and gentle, and understanding with her. But that was all right with him. She trusted them. That was a miracle in itself, and one he would never take for granted.