Before Elle left, she asked, “Will you think about what I said?”
Cara wished she could say no, but she couldn’t have stopped the words from turning over in her mind if she’d tried.
After she’d washed the vomit from her hair and scarfed down a meal that really did taste like Mom’s roast, Cara heard Troy’s knuckles rap on her chamber door. She knew it was him because he always knocked three times, each strike punctuated by a sweeping beat of silence, so it sounded like the intro to that old song their dad loved so much. Thump, thump, thump. Another one bites the dust.
She opened the door for her brother and completely fell apart at the sight of his welcoming smile and outstretched arms.
She collided with him at full force, locking her arms around his neck and shaking his chest with the force of her sobs.
“Damn, Pepper.” It took her brother three tries to unglue her from his body, but he finally held her at a distance. “You missed me that much?”
She wiped a sleeve over her eyes to bring Troy into focus, noting at once the changes in him. The wavy black hair he’d inherited from their mother nearly touched his shoulders, which seemed odd when contrasted against his military uniform, but that wasn’t what struck her. It was his eyes—still vividly blue, but no longer sparkling with carefree wanderlust. He studied her face deliberately, in a way he’d never done before, pursing his lips in concern.
Sweet mother of God, Troy had grown up.
“What happened?” he asked. “When Mom e-mailed, she said you were happy to leave.”
“Mom’s okay, then?”
Troy nodded. “Dad, too. More or less.”
Cara led her brother inside. After taking about a dozen deep breaths to calm herself, she told him everything—starting with how she’d fallen for Aelyx on Earth and ending with what Syrine had said a few days ago.
“So,” Cara continued, her breath still hitching, “somehow I have to convince them to give us the technology so we can take it home.”
“You’re sure about this? Ten years?”
She nodded, and Troy gaped at her in disbelief.
“I don’t have much time before they call me in. I need to know what’s going on back home—anything that might help. Did they catch the guys who killed Eron?”
He dragged one hand over his face, seemingly struggling to absorb what Cara had just told him. “Troy?” she pressed.
“No.” He shook his head. “And they probably never will. Tracking terrorists isn’t like busting civilians. They’re networked. They operate as one, and they never give each other up.”
“I was hoping at least—”
A quick series of knocks interrupted her, and she answered the door to find Stepha, the L’eihr ambassador, observing her with indifference.
“If you’ll follow me,” he said, tipping his head toward the hallway.
Troy promised to wait there, and after a quick good-bye, she followed the ambassador to what she assumed was a conference room.
When Stepha pressed his palm against an identification panel, both doors retracted into the wall and Cara stepped inside, taking a moment to orient herself. Dominating the space were ten plush, vacant seats arranged in a soft arc, a single glass podium glowing beneath an overhead light in the center. Three metallic stools faced the panel, two of them already occupied by Syrine—who slouched forward, cradling her head in her hands—and Aelyx, who sat ramrod straight next to her.
As Cara moved to the seat beside him, she scanned his back, expecting to see a crisscross of welts raising the uniform’s fabric but finding none. The skin on his neck appeared smooth and unmarred, too, but when she took her seat and examined him more closely, she noticed a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his face. He gripped his knees with trembling fingers, and Cara could almost feel his agony. Her own flesh prickled, and heat flooded her cheeks when she imagined the pain he’d endured.
She stewed in silence for several long minutes before turning to him. “You okay?”
Not returning her gaze, he spoke in the detached voice of a stranger. “When The Way enters, it’s crucial you don’t talk until you have permission—the previous speaker will hand you a small baton. To interrupt is considered the height of rudeness, and while the Elders might have admired your passion at one time, they won’t look kindly upon it now. Not after what happened to Eron. Do you understand?”
The coldness in his tone made her throat tighten. She nodded and whispered, “I’m sorry you had to go through that because of me.”
“Just remember what I told—”
“Don’t worry.” Whether on Earth or in another galaxy, if there was one thing Cara knew, it was the rules of debate. She couldn’t salvage her heart, but maybe she could save her people. It was time to put Aelyx out of her mind and focus on the speech she’d been mentally rehearsing all morning.
She took a deep breath and prepared for the fight of her life.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Aelyx couldn’t look at her, not even through his peripheral vision. Because one glimpse of Cara would send him to his knees pleading for forgiveness, and he didn’t want her to remember him that way—weak, pathetic, filling her mind with “poison.”
Using the hem of his tunic, he blotted sweat from his brow, wincing when the fabric tugged against his back. The ghost of the iphet’s lashes throbbed so severely he felt it in his teeth, but he embraced the pain. It helped him focus on what lay ahead instead of on the girl brooding to his right. He only hoped she’d control her temper. If she insulted The Way, nothing he said or did could help her.
As he tried to ignore the anxiety twisting his gut, the doors retracted once again, and the same Elder who’d administered Aelyx’s reckoning a few minutes earlier strode to the podium and placed the gleaming metallic speaker’s baton lightly atop the illuminated glass. They shared the briefest of glances before Aelyx broke eye contact, rubbing his nose to expel the scent of singed flesh.
Turning his head toward Cara but careful to avert his gaze, he whispered, “Stand when The Way enters, and don’t sit until they do.”
“Got it,” came her terse reply.
A few moments later, soft, controlled footsteps clicked inside. Aelyx stood and glanced up, expecting to see the same ten Elders who’d composed The Way since his youth: six males, four females, all withered and slumped with age. But his brows rose in shock when two young clones—one male, one female—accompanied the Elders and took their places among the panel, standing before the cushioned seats of honor with stiffened spines, both wearing haughty expressions of authority. They must have come from another precinct, because he didn’t know them. The girl couldn’t have been older than eighteen, while the male possessed the tall, lanky build and the defined jaw of a twenty-year-old.
While Aelyx openly gawked at his new leaders, Cara left her place by his side and approached the panel before he could stop her. His heart leaped painfully, but he resisted lurching forward and wrestling her back to her seat. That would only create more of a spectacle, and The Way demanded order above all things. Great gods, what was she doing?
Cara stopped at the podium only long enough to grasp the baton before squaring her shoulders and marching right up to the first Elder and pressing her fingers against the side of his throat in her misinterpretation of a L’eihr greeting.
The Elder’s dormant gray eyes widened in surprise, but instead of chastising Cara for her brazen act, he returned the gesture.
One by one, she greeted each leader, letting her fingers linger far, far too long, not understanding that she’d given them the human equivalent of an intimate embrace instead of a handshake. When she touched the young male, his lips twitched in an amused grin before he regained his mask of cool superiority.
Cara returned to her seat, taking the baton with her, and the male locked eyes with Aelyx.
It’s my understanding, the boy communicated, that you’ve brought her here as your l’ihan.
Aelyx made no effort to conceal his
heartbreak. Not any longer. He noticed the male’s posture sag in response to the pain. She wishes to return to Earth.
“Point of order.” Cara held the baton in the air.
“Yes, Miss Sweeney,” the young male said as he stood tall once again.
“I respectfully request that all communication during these proceedings be verbalized in English for my benefit.”
A laugh escaped the male’s lips before he had a chance to stifle it, reminding Aelyx of his own first interaction with Cara.
“Agreed. I apologize for my rudeness. My name is Jaxen.” He gestured to the young girl at his side. “Aisly and I are new to the order and are still learning proper procedure.” After a bow that seemed almost playful, he smiled at her and sat down.
Aelyx didn’t particularly care for Jaxen’s flirtatious behavior, but he decided to give him the benefit of the doubt instead of hating him on sight.
The rest of the panel lowered to their seats, and Aelyx followed suit. The chief Elder, a woman named Alona, waved lazily at Syrine and droned, “The girl will speak first.”
Syrine stretched her arm across him, demanding the baton from Cara, who surrendered it with a quiet sigh. Then Syrine stepped to the podium, leaning her elbows on the glass as if standing required too much effort.
“I’d hoped for a better outcome,” Syrine said to the panel, “but our trial living among humans has failed. My interactions with them were torturous, and I found them deceitful, dishonorable, violent, and hedonistic.” For the next fifteen minutes, she went on to tell stories of schoolboys crawling beneath the dinner table to fondle her legs; provincial French villagers who crossed themselves when passing her on the street; and how, in the end, death threats had escalated until she required constant military protection. “I don’t need to remind you of Eron’s murder.” Syrine now spoke directly to Alona, who’d raised Eron for two years before sending him to the Aegis. “Let his death prove beyond all doubt that we cannot live in peace among the human race, and more importantly”—glancing over her shoulder at Cara—“that they don’t deserve our mercy.”
Alona stared blankly ahead, her voice devoid of feeling when she ordered, “Let the human represent her people.”
Cara inhaled deeply and released a trembling breath before standing and retrieving the baton from Syrine. Instead of hiding behind the podium, she stood to its right, resting one elbow atop the glass in a casual stance, as if sharing an anecdote among friends.
“Thank you for allowing me to speak, especially considering the tragedy that ended Eron’s life. Your willingness to listen shows how evolved you truly are.” A far cry from You’re monsters, all of you! Leaving the podium, she lowered to one knee in front of Alona.
“I only met Eron once, at the exchange gala, but I remember how he shook my hand and smiled so warmly. I could tell Eron had a gentle spirit. Elle, his l’ihan, told me he was the kindest among you.” She paused a moment, peering directly into Alona’s eyes. “I don’t think he would want The Way to sentence my people to death as retribution for his own.”
Cara stood and paced a slow circuit around the room. “It’s easy to assume humans are depraved when that’s all you hear on the news. Let me tell you the stories you haven’t heard.”
She shared tales of human kindness: a terminally ill child who’d spent her last days raising money to provide clean drinking water for strangers on another continent; a man who’d harbored a wounded enemy soldier, then healed him and risked his own life to smuggle him out of his war-torn country. Cara’s fluid articulation stunned Aelyx; her radiance and passion stole his breath, and all the while, she never mentioned that he’d set out to sabotage the exchange. He didn’t know why she kept his secret, not after what he’d done, but her loyalty warmed his fractured heart.
“Violent extremists,” Cara continued, “have robbed mankind of some truly gifted and passionate visionaries: Mahatma Gandhi, Medgar Evers, Martin Luther King, Jr., John Lennon. But in the end, peace and logic prevail because, at their core, most humans are good. Look at the nearly unanimous defeat of the Expulsion Act—Americans support the alliance, and they’ve made their voices heard.
“The necessity of an alliance still exists,” Cara concluded. “You need our spirit of humanity, and we need your scientific advances. If we work together, we both win.” She approached the podium, turning the baton over in her hands before resting it atop the glass. “You can coexist with humans—I know it. If you’d be willing to try again, I think we can learn a lot from each other.”
Jaxen tipped his head and studied her in a way Aelyx didn’t like at all, with one corner of his mouth turned up appreciatively and a curious gleam in his eye. When Cara took her seat, Jaxen’s gaze followed, and Aelyx stood, blocking his new leader’s view until their eyes met.
I understand why you brought her. Jaxen quirked a brow. I’d have taken twelve lashes for this one, too. Pity she won’t stay with us. There was no sympathy in the young man’s thoughts, just a dusting of envy. Aelyx blocked his thoughts to conceal a surge of jealousy and took his place behind the podium.
“Last year you charged me with a task,” Aelyx told his Elders, carefully avoiding Jaxen’s gaze and gripping the smooth glass until it squeaked. “But I was too arrogant to carry it out. I didn’t believe we needed humans—their influence, their culture, or their DNA—so instead of trusting the wisdom of my Elders, I conspired against you from the very beginning, even before I arrived on Earth.” He paused a moment, waiting for them to gape at one another in disbelief, but aside from Jaxen and the girl at his side, they didn’t seem the least bit surprised, which stunned him into a beat of silence.
“Um,” he continued clumsily, “I…didn’t think the experimental exchange would succeed, and more importantly, I didn’t want it to succeed.” Then he confessed to planting the sh’alear and manipulating mankind, ending with his accidental discovery of Earth’s water contamination and his love for Cara. “Eron wanted to uproot his sh’alear weeks ago, but I wasn’t ready. When we found out the alliance was necessary for human survival, we agreed to destroy the seedlings right away, but Eron was under armed guard by then. He had to evade them to accomplish it, and that’s when he was captured. It was my fault, completely. If it weren’t for me, we’d still be on Earth right now—all of us, safe among humans.”
The baton had grown sweaty in his grasp. He took a moment to wipe his palms on his tunic before gripping it tighter than ever, as if he could draw courage from the warm brushed metal. He allowed himself one glance at Cara, who stared back, openmouthed, shaking her head.
“What I did was criminal.” He faced his Elders, heart pounding with the gravity of his admission. “Eron’s blood is on my hands, and I ask that you punish me, not mankind. You need them—you need their compassion and love, humor and folly…even their anger. Please reconsider the alliance and take my life in exchange for theirs.”
Cara gasped from behind him, and Aelyx knew he had to act quickly before she bolted to the podium. He turned and locked eyes with her, then pushed a hurried thought into her head. Don’t move. Don’t speak. You’ll ruin everything.
Tears spilled from her lashes as she pulled her brows low and burned a glare into his mind so fiercely it stung, and then something happened he couldn’t believe. He felt her emotions. No words broached the veil between their minds, but his blood chilled with a fear so acute he had to close his eyes to break the connection, because he couldn’t bear it.
He’d felt her fear of losing him. Not only that, but an aftertaste of her love, so strong and real he could almost reach out and pluck it from the air. Sacred Mother, she still loved him. She’d forgiven him. Nothing else existed in his world beyond that truth.
If only he hadn’t just demanded his own execution.
Alona stood from her seat, declaring, “We will discuss this privately.” Aelyx scanned her face for any betrayal of emotion, a hint of what she was thinking, but found none. The Elders filed quietly out of the room, Syrine
on their heels, no doubt to make one final appeal for the destruction of mankind.
Cara wasted no time in rushing to him. He drew her close and buried his face in her hair.
“I can’t believe you did that,” she whispered. “You idiot. I love you.”
“I felt it.” He flattened one hand over her heart. “You looked in my eyes and I felt you.”
Her lips parted with a soft pop. “I used Silent Speech?”
“Without words, but yes. You did it.” He hoped he’d survive long enough to figure out how. “I’m so sorry, Elire. If they let me live, I’ll spend the rest of my—”
“Don’t.” She pressed an index finger to his lips and whispered, “If they say no, we’ll steal a shuttle.”
“And go where?” Linking their hands, he towed her back to his seat, where he gathered her into his lap.
“As far away as we can get.”
Her voice was so full of hope. He didn’t have the heart to tell her a shuttle’s fuel supply would only take them as far as the nearest transport. Instead, he tucked his thumb beneath Cara’s jaw and lifted her lips to his, lightly at first, parting them and tentatively exploring her mouth with the tip of his tongue. Her sweet taste loosed a thousand white-hot sparks that tingled over his flesh, inexplicably burning and healing him all at once. She laced her hands behind his neck and returned the kiss with so much force he had to back away an inch.
“Oh!” She gasped. “Did I hurt your back?”
Yes, but he didn’t care. He fisted her shirt and pulled her in again, savoring the feel of her soft, wet lips against his. He didn’t know what the Elders would decide, and if he only had minutes to live, he wanted to spend every last second kissing her. He brushed her face, forcing his fingertips to memorize each gentle curve before moving to her throat and settling his thumb at the base, where her pulse hammered for him.
“One-ten,” he whispered against her lips.
She kissed her way to his ear. “Still can’t beat my high score.”
Alienated Page 26
