She decided, in that moment, that if she died on Earth, it’d be worth it, as long as he kissed her for real.
He let go, stood, and said, “Of course.”
When he wasn’t touching her any more, her skin started to cool and her alien heart beat slower. She needed to get control of herself. He’d been carrying her for twenty minutes off and on.
Why was this happening now?
He removed the wet cloth and placed the ice pack over her wound. “Venus. I’m so sorry.” He put his hand on her forehead. At his touch, she felt his quickened pulse.
Maybe that’s why she felt different. Venus was responding to his emotions, or she was exciting him. It felt like both. Her face started to flush again, her breathing faster. His breathing came faster, too.
She had to wonder if he reacted of his own free will. Once a female kelarian received immortality, if she wanted a male, her body produced a scent. Beyond that, they could bend a male’s will, to an extent. There had to be a mutual understanding first. Yes, she’d been given the immortal gift, but her journey hadn’t been fulfilled.
She searched his face again. Desire radiated off him as did another emotion, but she couldn’t decipher it. She ached with physical need and pain. Michael leaned in, his warm breath mingling with hers. For a moment, she breathed easier. Venus watched his eyes widen, surprised, when he sensed the difference. She could’ve explained that the carbon dioxide he breathed out allowed her to breathe easier. He already believed she was different. Again, his memories entered her mind. The Angel of Death. Did he still think she would kill him? She realized his kiss might destroy her.
“Venus,” he whispered her name, feather soft.
“Yes?” She hadn’t meant for her response to come out like a sigh, but her name on his lips . . . She’d never really liked her name. Her parents had named her after a planet within Earth’s solar system and a goddess created by humans. A goddess of love, no less.
When Michael said her name, though, for the first time, she didn’t mind it so much. Thought she might cry. Again, Venus was stunned that this was the same boy who so recently despised her.
Venus closed her eyes. Her body commanded him closer, urged him to kiss her, but her mind begged him to stop. He had to fall in love with Cheverly. Her life depended on it.
Kiss me. She lifted a hand to his face, finding the long, thin scar. Her fingers brushed against it, as though she’d felt it many times before.
He shivered.
Leaning in, his lips brushed hers and for the briefest moment it was as if time, space and eternity stood still. Tenderness. Perfectly soft lips. His strong hands stroking her neck.
“Well, isn’t this sweet.” Sarcasm spread through the room so thick it separated her and Michael, a sharpened knife slicing butter.
“Mother, what are you doing home?” Michael jumped off the bed, placing himself between her and his mother.
“Nothing as fun as you.” She pushed her way past him and dropped a white shirt she’d been holding on the nightstand. “Hello, dear. Oh my, you won’t last long. You aren’t his type. Hawke men go for women with a bit more on top. Trust me.”
She looked different than she had in Michael’s memories. At the moment, she was dressed in a pale pink cashmere sweater and dark gray pants with matching suede heels. Her hair looked clean, bouncy and she had on make-up. She held a glass of wine and a cigarette in one hand. That was the same.
“Hello, Catherine,” Venus said, unable to help herself.
“You told her my name. That’s new. Well, my dear, at least you have manners even if you’re a tramp.” She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Mother!”
“Shut it. I’m going to have a conversation with the . . . girl.” She assessed Venus as though checking out meat in the grocery story.
Cigarette smoke and a strong perfume entered Venus’s nose. She held her breath, refusing to cough.
“Get out of my room.” Menace tore through the air. It frightened Venus, yet she also saw the strength in him. And felt a power, which she didn’t think Michael knew he possessed. In that moment, he reminded her of a Formytian. Chiseled biceps. Authority radiating from every pore. The way he stood tall despite everything he’d been through.
It occurred to her that the Gods, Ith and Aetha, had somehow known the potential in Michael. They were aware of him and had chosen him for a purpose. But why would they care? The reason had to be important. She’d have to mull over the possibilities later.
Catherine said, “Oh Michael, control yourself. You’re a man whore, just like your father. This girl is using you and you’re using her, I’m sure.” She turned to Venus, patted her thigh and said, “You don’t really care, do you, dear?”
Venus felt abruptly better. How dare she? Her anger and adrenaline rose making the pain in her leg subside. No one talked to her that way and got away with it. She swiveled her body, flinging her legs to the floor, barely missing Catherine’s smelly cigarette. Standing, she gave Michael a look, a swift apology, before she glared at his mother. “Catherine, I’m sorry your husband treated you the way he did. But, more than that I’m angry.” Venus stopped, forcing in some poisonous air and then continued. “Furious, in fact, that you talk to your son the way you do. Beyond irate that you don’t love him the way you should. But, truthfully, that’s between the two of you. Michael has chosen to stay and take what you give. I don’t blame him, not really.”
Catherine tried to stand. Her mouth making sputtering sounds, like a defunct car. Disbelief plastered over her face. She appeared shocked that a so-called child would speak to her in such a way. Venus leaned in, pushing her back down onto the bed.
“Stay where you are. Where I’m from, they bow before me or die. You should feel lucky to be alive. But if you ever speak to me in such a way again, I’ll make sure you’ll wish you were dead. Understand?” Venus bent, so they were face to face.
Catherine sat there, stunned. Her mouth remained in a circled O.
Venus asked again, vicious, “Do you understand?”
“Yes, I suppose—”
Venus noticed Catherine’s cigarette had burned all the way to the filter, a long line of ash dangling. Any second it’d fall all over her or the floor.
“Yes is all I require.”
She grabbed her clothes and boots from the foot of Michael’s bed.
“Venus, wait.” He gently touched her arm.
Unable to meet his gaze, she pressed past, ran down the stairs, and out the front door. She had no idea what Michael must be thinking. A part of her wanted him to stop her, or follow. But he didn’t. She couldn’t blame him. Venus understood family loyalties.
Outside, she stopped and ripped off the macaroni visitor necklace (no way in helker she would set foot back inside that school) and threw it into the grass. Then she stripped out of the rancid gym clothes, leaving them where they fell on the porch. Tawny wasn’t going to be getting her gym clothes back, at least not from her. If Michael wanted to return them, so be it. Tawny’s words mocked her. “You’re a lover not a fighter,” she’d said.
Venus let out a huff as her anger grew. Different scenarios in which she could make Tawny suffer, or Catherine or those who’d framed her . . . Hot tears stung her eyes and leaked onto her cheeks.
What did I do to deserve this? Why is everyone picking on me?
She dressed and then stood up straight. Tall. The way her mother had taught her to behave in difficult situations. Pushing down her sadness, she let out a breath. “Ggggrrrr!”
When her boots were buckled into place, she stepped onto the grass and made herself two promises. She’d never remove her Kelvieri Boots again, except to change or bathe and regardless of the situation, she’d never let anyone—humans and any other species she encountered—take advantage of her again.
“Humans,” she muttered.
A glossy black truck sped around the corner and came to a stop in front of Michael’s house. Dervinias rolled down
the window. “Hey doof, get your alien assets in this truck. Now!”
In a manner much calmer than she felt, Venus sauntered toward the truck and got in. “Where have you two been?”
27. You Might Think
Catherine glared at her son. How dare he bring that girl into her house? She’d known immediately what Venus was. One of them. A single look at the girl’s leg revealed all of her secrets. That she’d almost kissed her son scared the hell out of her. The way Venus spoke, with such arrogance . . . She knew from experience that meant Venus came from royalty. Even worse. Michael had no idea what he’d become entangled in.
“Michael, don’t ever bring that girl into my house again. Got it?” she hissed quietly, standing next to him.
“What’s your problem?” Michael asked.
“Well, for one thing, what happened to your shirt? I found it on the floor.” Catherine grabbed it from the nightstand and stuck a finger in the singed hole.
Michael grabbed it away from her. “None of your business.”
“It is my business! Look, there’s something you should know. About that girl. About your father—“
“I don’t care about my father.” He stomped out of his room.
“Michael!” Happy birthday, kid. I’m so sorry.
Catherine sat back on Michael’s bed, noticed her cigarette had burned out. Ashes rested on the toe of a shoe. Today of all days. She made every effort not to think about what the bullet hole meant. She sighed, closed her eyes. “Perhaps today’s the day to tell you who your real father is.”
28. I Want To Know What Love Is
Venus heard the knock at the door and for the briefest moment thought she’d returned home. Stiff muscles, which constricted her body, reminded her otherwise. Her shin, where Tawny had kicked her, was still sore. The bed was not comfortable, especially when she couldn’t move about as she usually did. If she’d been on her journey, she would’ve slept on the ground or the back of Sadraden and still been more comfortable than she was right now, on this horrible, lumpy bed. With a sharp laugh, which wasn’t happy at all, she realized her journey would’ve been over by now, had she gone as planned.
Three. Two. One. “What is it?” Venus growled.
“Phone’s for you.” Dervinias hollered from the hallway, way too chipper. “Cheverly wants to know if you want to hang out.” He opened the door. Venus hastily pulled the covers up to her chin.
“Dervinias. Leave!”
Ignoring her, he strolled in and sat on the edge of her bed with a bounce. “Really she wants to know how you feel about Michael. If you’re trying to put the moves on her guy. She hopes not because she likes you, but she’s willing to kick serious . . . butt—”
Venus raised her eyebrows at his distinct choice of word.
He chuckled. “I’m quoting her thoughts, V.”
She glared, trying to kick at him through the covers.
He shrugged and continued, “. . . if you put your scrawny paws on her man.” He watched Venus intently. She gave him her best crustie until he stuck out his tongue.
“Helker,” she swore, which lifted her spirits some. “You’re impossible. Give me that thing—cellular telephone.” She scrunched her face, unable to stop herself from cracking a tiny grin. “And stop calling me V.”
“It’s a cell or a phone. Don’t call it a cellular telephone. Makes you sound like you’re eighty-five.” He chuckled.
“Fine, give me the phone.”
“Oh, and you’d better be nice to Chev . . . V. She’s starting to get impatient. Beginning to wonder if you think you’re all that.” He pulled the phone from his pocket, pushed a button, and handed the phone to her with a smirk.
“Seriously?” She reached out and grabbed the phone from his hand, putting it to her ear at the same time.
“Retaliation,” he mouthed.
“Seriously what? Is this V?” Cheverly asked with a tone which sounded confused.
Holy Cret, what is the deal with V? Ugh! Into the phone, she said, “Yes, this is Venus. Sorry about that. I was talking to the crazy alie—Vinny. He’s such a—he’s weird.” She waved him out of her room, but he wouldn’t leave, and the doof had a big ol’ grin on his face. Probably still reading whatever Cheverly was thinking. “Hang on a sec, Chev.” Venus put her hand over the phone and said to Dervinias, “Get out of my room. I mean it and stay out of—other places as well.” He finally left, closing the door behind him. “Hey, I’m back. So what’s up?”
“Vinny told me you like to ride. I have lots of horses and wondered if you wanted to join me?”
Venus’s heart lurched at the idea. She’d never ridden a horse before. Kelari had animals which were similar, four-legged. Of course nothing could compare to flying with an irrihunter, but it’d be nice.
“Cheese, V.” Cheverly sounded edgy. She heard a tap-tapping in the background.
Was she stomping her foot? She secretly laughed at that, and the cheese comment. “Um, yeah, that sounds like fun. I’d love to.”
“Awesome. I thought we’d invite your brother and Vinny to come too. Is that cool?” She seemed hopeful. Venus wouldn’t mind having Zaren join them, but it wouldn’t be good to have Cheverly flirting with him. Obviously she had a little crush. Venus had a task to accomplish. Help Michael and Chev fall in love. Now was the time. Chev didn’t need further distractions, namely Zaren.
“Sounds great.” Venus paused a moment, gathering her courage. “Hey, what about inviting Michael?” She tried to sound casual, but knew it’d come out forced. Venus was beginning to understand why Zaren had been so worried that day on the mountain.
Focus, Princess, she shouted internally, repeating Zaren’s words to herself.
Then she put a smile on her face figuring that would help. “Don’t you two have a thing going?”
“Um, sort of.” Venus heard Cheverly take a huge breath and blow it out. “I’ll give him a call. Great idea.”
“Fabu! When do you want to get together?” Venus tucked the phone against her ear and shoulder and started to braid a portion of her hair. Organize and reorganize. Braid and unbraid, anything to keep her fingers busy.
“Fabu? L.O.L., V. What? Were you born in like, 1968?”
Venus let out a nervous chuckle. She’d seen humans use the word. It hadn’t been that long ago, a few years. Lots of young kels had picked up on the word and used it often. “Nooooo,” she laughed.
“K, well anyway, can you be ready around one?”
“I can, but I’m not too sure about the pretty boys. I’ll force them to hurry.” Her neck started to kink, so she stopped braiding and held the phone, pulling all her hair away from her shoulders.
Cheverly giggled.
A grunt came from the other side of the door. Dervinias.
“Yeah, tell them they’d better.”
“I will.”
“Rockin. I mean, fabu!” She giggled again.
Before Chev hung up, she gave Venus directions. She didn’t worry about writing them down since Venus figured at least one other alien listened in on their conversation. Bolting off the bed, she ran to the door. Dervinias was on the other side, waiting.
“How do you turn this thing off?”
He grabbed it from her. “Push the button with E.N.D. on it.” He shook his head in exasperation.
“Well, what’re you doing? Snoop.” Venus punched him in the arm.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Dervinias asked.
She was about to give him an arrogant retort when she realized he wasn’t joking. For the first time Venus really thought about it.
I’ve no idea what I’m doing. And, in five days I’ll be dead.
Formytians were trained with longswords and broadswords. She suddenly felt as though one of each had been shoved into her gut and twisted slowly, painfully and with fervor.
“Maybe you—”
“Where’s Zaren?” A nervous hiccup escaped. Venus wanted to cry, sob, sulk—be utterly sad. And she needed h
er Formytian. Where was he? “Zaren,” she yelled. “Zaren.”
Venus started running down the hall, but her foot caught on a ripped portion of the carpet. She ended up face planted. “Zaren,” she whispered. Fear. A word she’d heard, but hadn’t ever, before now, experienced. It gripped at her. Tore away all confidence and made her feel like a child—not a woman at all. Her body shook, incapable of pushing herself off the floor.
This wasn’t possible. None of it. She’d never find out who’d done this to her. Never see her parents or her sister. She’d never see her home again. Some treacherous kelarian had sent her to this world. The Gods had given her a task so basic and yet completely impossible to accomplish. In that moment, she knew she’d fail. And in the next she wanted to kill the kelarian who’d done this to her—to those she loved. Hate consumed her, burned her insides. How she longed to find those who’d framed her and make them pay.
“Venus. Princess, I’m here.” Zaren lifted her into his arms, firm skin pressed against hers. With the touch of his body, her hate subsided.
“I can’t do this. It’s too much. I won’t succeed. Whoever did this to me, they’ve won.”
Tears poured from her eyes, down her cheeks. Even if she wanted to be embarrassed it would’ve been no use. The defeat, crushing. All she could do was sob. Venus didn’t want to try anymore.
Maybe I should give up and let myself die. Despair filled every ounce and crevice of her being.
Zaren carried her into the bedroom he and Dervinias shared, then turned and kicked the door closed with one of his bare feet. His usually benevolent eyes bore into hers. Venus noticed his jaw clenched.
“Are you finished?” He walked over to his bed and dropped her . . . like a sack of potatoes.
Venus scrambled into a sitting position, gazed at his face, searching for answers. “Zaren?” His name was all she could think to say while she waited. Venus blinked away her tears, incredulous. She wasn’t accustomed to his displeasure being directed at her—so forceful.
“I’ve been trying to stay out of your mind, be respectful, but I can’t take any more of this wallowing. You want to give up and die?! Ridiculous. The past couple of days I’ve watched you move from one bad decision to another, waiting for you to come and talk to me, wondering when you’d ask me for direction. I’ve been your Formytian nearly all your life. I’ve kept you safe. Yet I’ve felt honor bound to wait and watch in silence. No more.”
Immortal Essence Box Set: Aligned, Exiled, Beguiled Page 13
