Off Balance

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Off Balance Page 27

by Aileen Erin


  Heat pulsed through my body, and my skin lit brighter than I knew it could.

  Goddess. Why did I tell her to put on something sexy? Was I trying to punish myself?

  She was wearing a halter-top jumpsuit with an impossibly low vee neckline. Her arms were bare, and from the look of it, so was her back. I wanted to run my fingers over her skin until she glowed. Until she showed me the fao’ana that told everyone how we were made for each other.

  The material of her jumpsuit glittered as she walked toward me. Her hair was pulled away from her face revealing her dark brown eyes. She looked determined and strong and that made me love her even more, as if that were possible. It took everything in me not to go to her. Because if I did, I would smother her with all my wants, and that wasn’t what this was about.

  This was about her. This was about giving her the ability to take control of her life. Knowledge would be the thing that would keep her with me.

  Amihanna and Roan stopped in front of me, but I was seconds away from losing control.

  I wanted to grab her, pull her toward me, but I shouldn’t. So, I put my hands into my pockets. There wasn’t anything in them, except a hair tie in the right. I twisted it in my fingers because if they were busy, then they wouldn’t grab Amihanna.

  I couldn’t make another mistake. I couldn’t be the reason she left. I wouldn’t survive that.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Of course.” I gave myself one second more to take her in. She was so beautiful that she sometimes made it hard to breathe, but I didn’t think she’d appreciate if I said that out loud.

  She looked down at her chest and tried to tug the material up. “You said to dress sexy.” She muttered the words.

  “You pulling at the top isn’t helping.” My voice was full of desperation, and maybe that would’ve been embarrassing—especially since I caught Roan silently laughing at me out of the corner of my eye—but she kept revealing a little bit of creamy flesh and—

  “I look ridiculous. Right? No. Don’t say anything. I’m just going to go change.”

  I grabbed her elbow before she could leave.

  Goddess. How could I be so bad at this? “I’m sorry. I seem to say that a lot lately, but I just… My control is shot today, and then you show up looking like a dream. You’re breathtaking. Every time you yank at the top, I get just a hint of the skin under, and it’s taking everything in me not drop to my knees and beg you to show me more.”

  Her cheeks were a nice shade of rose when she peeked back at me over her shoulder. “Really? It’s not too…” She turned and put her hands on her hips. She looked as if she were ready to defend herself against me. She somehow hadn’t realized that I was already a puddle at her feet, ready to take whatever she’d give me. “I could still fight in it.”

  I wanted to laugh, but I was afraid it’d come out a whimper. “You could probably fight in anything—or nothing.” I took a breath and tried to remember that I was a man of control. “And again, I’m sorry. I was trying not to stare and failing at it. I obviously made you uncomfortable, but that’s on me. I would say I’d stop, but I honestly don’t know that I can help myself.” I gave her a smile that I hoped told her how helpless I was around her.

  “See, Am. The guy’s a mess. I told you that you looked hot,” Roan said.

  “You think anything with boobs is hot.”

  I cleared my throat. If they started in now, they’d never stop. They bickered and joked like I’d never seen before. “These are the security rooms.” I motioned to the door on the right. “Everything in the estate is highly monitored, except bedrooms and bathrooms. Through that door is a room full of people who are supposed to be keeping everyone inside our gates safe, but obviously something went wrong today. We know who brought the bomb in and how it got into your room, but we’re still working on why it wasn’t detected.”

  “Sounds like you have some traitors on staff,” she said.

  Just the thought of traitors on the estate had my control slipping again. My fao’ana started flickering.

  Amihanna placed her hand on my arm as she glanced around the hallway. I wasn’t sure if she was even aware she’d done it, or that she was humming a little to bring my frequency down. But the fact that she’d reached for me at all made my heart settle down just a little.

  “I don’t see any cameras,” she said after a moment.

  “They’re hidden. We don’t like to be so in-your-face, but we have almost as much monitoring as SpaceTech. The difference is that they like their citizens to constantly feel the weight of their rulers, while ours isn’t quite so oppressive.”

  “But how is that really different?”

  “Motivation always makes the difference.” I ran my fingertips down her cheek before I could stop myself. “Ours is there to keep our people safe. Theirs is there to keep their people in line.”

  Amihanna stared for a second at her hand that was still grasping my forearm, and then looked up at me.

  Her skin flared bright. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  “For bringing me balance? Please don’t ever be sorry for that.” I didn’t need to be her shalshasa to know she was embarrassed, but I didn’t want that. She was doing exactly what she was supposed to do.

  We were both dangerous people, but since we were mirrors, we could bring balance to each other. It was a gift that she didn’t understand yet, but she would.

  I glanced down at my wrist unit and noticed a couple of notifications. Seri was delayed a little, but the maid was ready to be questioned.

  “Fynea—my assistant—will be joining us. It’s always good to have assistants around. Their job is to have all the information that could and will affect you. They’re the barrier between you and everyone else. Which is why it’s good that Roan is yours.”

  “And I’m making bank.” Roan crossed his arms. “Honestly, thank you.”

  “No need. You’ll be earning it,” I said before focusing on Amihanna again. “Your father would be here, but he’s doing damage control with the media. I should be there, too, but my control being what it is…” If they asked me the wrong question, I might end up killing someone. “Solan—the head of security for the estate—will be doing the questioning of the maid and Seri, unless I need to take over for either at any point.”

  “Frosty,” Roan said. “I’ve never seen an actual interrogation room.”

  Amihanna looked down at the ground for a moment, and I wasn’t sure what she was thinking, only that it made her upset. “They’re not that much fun, Roan.”

  My skin flared again. I hated—hated—that she’d been in jail. I hated that Declan hadn’t put a stop to it. I know he could’ve taken her away, but he was too busy worrying about his cover to put her first.

  “All right, guys. Let’s go find out who else wants me dead,” Amihanna said with a fake chipper tone, but this wasn’t a joke. And this wasn’t funny.

  I slammed my hand on the panel beside the door a little too hard.

  “Hey,” Amihanna said. “I was kidding.”

  The door slid open. “I know you were.” I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t trust myself. “I’m usually pretty good at controlling myself, but I’m having some trouble today.”

  I stepped into the observation room. There was a long, tall table in the middle of the room with four chairs on one side of it. Vidscreens took up the wall across from the chairs, currently showing the inside of the interrogation room with the maid inside. She was seated at a small table with an empty chair across from her, ready for questioning.

  Seri would be here in the next ten minutes, and I was dreading hearing what she would no doubt say. There was no way I could remain calm about what she’d done, but I wanted to know who I’d let into my home so that they could murder my mirror soul.

  My skin brightened a little more, and Amihanna grabbed my arm. “Are you okay?”

  “No. I’m not. I’m having the worst day.” I tried to breathe, but gave up. I was to
o far gone now. “It’s hard to realize how wrong everything has gone, and even worse, knowing my own part in it.”

  “None of this is your fault.”

  She was wrong, but the door opened, and I didn’t have time to explain why.

  “Amihanna, this is Fynea.” Fynea placed her fist to her heart as she walked into the room with Solan beside her. “And Solan, the head of security for the estate.” He echoed Fynea’s movements.

  “We’ve met. You recover already?” Amihanna smiled at Solan.

  “I was sore for a week, but I’m fine now.”

  Amihanna laughed, and a sharp pang of jealousy hit me hard. One that I wasn’t expecting. I honestly wasn’t sure how this day could get worse.

  I glanced between them. She seemed easy with him. Easy with Roan and Ahiga and Declan. But with me, she froze.

  I swallowed down my emotions. They wouldn’t do any good here. “You’ve met?”

  “We trained together a week or so ago,” Solan said. “And I’m a little sad to admit that she bested me three times before I gave up trying.”

  And yet she wouldn’t spar with me even once.

  “Tell me about Almya ni Morie,” I said quickly, before my jealousy could trick me into saying something stupid.

  Solan nodded. “I’ve reviewed her file, but nothing pops. She used to work in fashion design. Her family has been on the staff at the estate for the last four generations. Which is how she got the job.” He motioned to the vidscreen on the right, and we all turned to watch it.

  The interrogation rooms were small and utilitarian, usually used as small conference rooms or for interviewing employees. They were inside the security offices, but we didn’t do a lot of interrogating here at the estate. We hadn’t ever had cause. Until today.

  Almya was a young woman, maybe a few years older than Amihanna, and beautiful. Her skin was glowing slightly—probably from nerves—but she sat fidgeting with her hair in her chair. Pulling it free of her bun before piling it back up.

  There was a soft buzzing and Solan glanced at his wrist unit. “Seri is being escorted in now, Your Highness. We told her you wanted to see her, Lorne, and she wanted to primp before coming.”

  I almost laughed. “That was cruel.”

  “More cruel than her blowing up your mirror’s rooms?” Solan asked, and I knew from his tone that he was as angry about the bombing as I was.

  All the humor left me. “No.” I looked at Amihanna, but she wasn’t giving me anything to work off of. I knew she was mad that someone had tried to kill her, but I’d thought she would be more scared.

  She’d been seething when she was in the bunker, but now that she was here, she seemed unfazed that someone tried to kill her. I wasn’t expecting the attack to hit me harder than it did her.

  “When does the ex get here?” Amihanna rubbed her hands together and grinned. “That’s when it’ll get juicy.”

  She was excited?

  “Right?” Roan bumped a shoulder against Amihanna. “This screams drama, and we loooove us some drama.”

  Solan looked at them and then back at me as if I could explain it, which was absolutely not the case.

  “The ex, Seri di Sopoyan, will be here in five minutes. In the meantime, I thought I could start on Almya. The maid seems scared enough as it is. Having either of you in there might have her closing up.”

  I nodded. “I’m fine with that plan, as long as she’s talking. But if not, I’ll go in.”

  “That’s great, Your Highness. I think we can get this sorted quickly.”

  I gave Solan a nod, and he exited the room.

  All four of us moved to sit at the table. Roan scooted his chair close to Amihanna. “This would be better with popcorn. Right?” Roan muttered not-so-softly to Amihanna, who laughed.

  Solan appeared on the screen as he entered the room. He quickly introduced himself in English—nice of him considering Amihanna was watching—and started on the standard questions. How long had she worked here? (Three years.) How did she get the job? (Referred by family.) She answered Solan’s questions quickly, and I checked her answers with her background information on file. Everything added up until Solan dug into why she was working here in the first place.

  “This job was the last thing I wanted, but it was all that was available to me.” She was crying now. Not because Solan was being harsh with her—if anything he was being a little too nice—but being questioned at all can be emotional. “I do good work. I swear it. I’ve never—”

  “Show me your fao’ana.”

  Another tear slipped free, and her skin brightened a few shades, revealing her fao’ana.

  Solan looked closely at those on her arms. Those were the ones that would show her line of work.

  Both Fynea and I leaned toward the screen, but the screen was too little to see her fao’ana. I said a quick Aunare command to the computer, and the image on the vidscreen increased.

  There were the usual symbols for family, schooling, and then talents—but she was meant to be a seamstress. She should’ve been working in that field, not cleaning bathrooms.

  “What do they mean?” Amihanna asked quietly. “Can you tell?”

  “Some are common and others more unique. It all depends, but we all have a basic understanding for the more general ones, and if the person is in your field, we can figure out the rest.” I took a closer look. “Almya has an artistic symbol, cloth, sewing, a few others that I think mean she should be working in tailoring at a minimum, but more likely high fashion. Which is what her background check says. But how did she end up here? There’s no reason for leaving the field of her talents. She has to be miserable cleaning toilets. And either she was a pawn or she was unhappy and decided to make us unhappy or even worse—she joined the staff for this particular reason.”

  Solan was still asking Almya questions, and it was more important that Amihanna get the answers she needed from me. She said she needed information and to feel in control of her life, and I would do my best to give her everything I had. If I missed something in the questioning, I could always rewind the feed.

  “Does everyone work according to their fao’ana?” Amihanna asked.

  “Usually. Yes. Sometimes it’s not always exactly what that person dreams of, and occasionally, something will happen to tear a person from their true destiny. I’m not sure what happened with Almya, but we’ll find out.”

  “Quiet, Am. It’s popcorn time.” Roan’s gaze was fixed to the vidscreen.

  Almya’s voice shook. “—stole some silk from my work.”

  Ah. There it was. Everything was making a bit more sense now, except how she ended up here. There was no way we’d knowingly have a thief on staff.

  “I wanted to make a top for a client, but it was my own design. My boss—Fras de Netri—wouldn’t let me even show her, but it was perfect. It would’ve been perfect. I was closing up for the night, and the fabric was there. It wasn’t going to be missed. He didn’t have plans for it, not yet. So, I took it home. I thought if the lady liked the top well enough and paid Fras, then no harm done. I wasn’t really stealing the fabric.” Almya swiped under her eyes. “And she did love it. She paid for it. No harm done. The style became one worn by so many—with a few well-placed stitches, the top flows nicely, staying in place while revealing the entirety of the back. So that a woman’s fao’ana can be exposed without exposing anything else. But Fras was so upset that I’d done it with his material and without his consent. He fired me and told me if I ever told anyone about it, that he’d tell everyone what a thief I was. And that I wouldn’t be able to get hired in any field. I would become a leech on our society. So, I left, and no official report was made.”

  Fynea gave a little hmm, and I turned to her. “What’s the hmm for?”

  She started a bit as she looked at me. “Oh. This is the top she’s speaking of.” She picked up the material of her shirt a bit and dropped it.

  “Really? That one. But everyone wears it.”

  “I t
hink there’s like twenty in my closet. Multiples of some colors.” Amihanna pressed her lips together for a second as she thought. “The client bought the top, and it sounds like this jerk is making a ton off of her design after firing her. It’s complete bullshit. She got screwed.” Amihanna leaned back in her chair.

  “Yes,” Fynea said. “Feels a bit like a lie now that I bought them from him and not her.”

  Roan grunted. “This is SpaceTech-level bullshit. Same crap, different planet.”

  “Right?” Amihanna leaned closer to Roan. “I want popcorn now, and they don’t have corn on this planet. It’s your fault that I’m even thinking about it.”

  I went back to watching the screen.

  “—never stolen anything. I swear. If someone says that I have, I haven’t. Check the footage. I swear it! If something went missing, it wasn’t me.” Almya was crying now and her hands were shaking as she folded and refolded her hands. “Please, I need this job.”

  “This isn’t about you stealing something.” Solan handed her a handkerchief from his pocket. “Take a breath. Seri di Sopoyan stopped by yesterday.”

  Her crying slowed, and she looked a little confused. “Yes. She said she left a necklace in the crown prince’s rooms. I met her in the front receiving room, and she told me where it was. I went in and grabbed it. And—” The tears stopped as Almya’s eyes grew wide and her face paled.

  I didn’t realize I wanted the maid to be in on it until I realized that she wasn’t. Almya had been used and manipulated by Seri.

  “Oh no. Oh no. She…she…she said she stole something of Amihanna’s. She asked if I could place it back on her bedside table. It was a little toy. I had one just like it when I was a child, and I thought—well, Seri must’ve been really angry about the breakup. I could imagine how heartbroken I’d be if the prince broke up with me. And I thought how nice it was that she was big enough to realize she’d made a mistake. I understand mistakes. I was called a thief before, and it ruined my life. But it can’t… Please… I didn’t know! If that was the cause…I swear, if it…I didn’t know!”

 

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