I followed him through the door. My damp, pruned feet tapped onto shimmering black tiles. David picked up a silver oblong plate holding something like celery stalks, and grabbed a tall, narrow cylinder. A window opened in the wall to his right, and he placed the dishes inside.
“You didn’t have to clean up for me.”
He shrugged. “I never had a girl over before. I didn’t feel right to leave the table a mess.”
The table—the only piece of furniture in the room. Not even any chairs. “Do you guys stand when you eat?”
“Sometimes. Do you want to sit?” He held up his hand, and the floor pinched. A chair rose, as if melting in reverse. So cool.
“Thanks, but I’m okay.” I slipped my hands in my pockets. “Where do you sleep?”
He sank his fingers into the wall and a small archway appeared.
I walked through and stopped. A long, narrow slit cut through the wall ahead of me with a stark, bare shelf beneath it. “This is where you sleep?”
He set his hand on the slit. “Yes, in here.”
I leaned closer and ran my hand along the smooth, hard slab inside. “How do you get in?”
“You just slide through the opening.”
Okaaaay. I squeezed through the slit, gliding my palms across the cold, hard bed before I laid down.
The gray, stark walls oppressed, mocked, and closed in toward me, but I forced myself to keep my eyes open.
My breath hitched. I bit my lips.
The pressure, the lack of air, it was only an illusion. I could handle this. If I concentrated hard enough I’d be able to stay here; imagine what it would be like to live on a spaceship, to spend a few moments living as David did his entire life.
My heart pummeled as nightmares of being buried alive consumed me. The rest of the air sucked out of the small space, and I gasped as David dragged me back through the narrow slit into the not much larger alcove.
We fell to our knees and I flopped into his arms. Sweat drenched the hair at my temples.
“Your heartbeat increased,” he said. “Are you all right?”
My hand shook on his chest. “You actually sleep in there?”
“Yes. It’s safe, confining.”
Confining? Bile pooled at the bottom of my throat. My heartbeat rattled. “I can’t be closed in like that.”
“I never asked you to be.” He lifted me to my feet. Disappointment radiated from his eyes. Had he hoped I’d like it in the miniature coffin?
“I know you didn’t make me go in there. I guess I thought I could … ” What? See if I had what it took to be a space ranger? I pressed my hand against my chest and exhaled. “I don’t know what I thought.”
The rest of the room seemed to shrink. I hid my face in his soft cotton shirt. How could anyone live like this?
David scooted me back out toward the door. “How about we go back to your room?”
Yes, yes. Back to the nice, normal, human space.
I breathed in the sweet, familiar aroma of the flowers in Mrs. Miller’s garden as soon as we stepped out of David’s jail-like, antiseptic quarters. I shuddered as a sense of relief eased the ache from my muscles.
The smell of the flowers wasn’t real. The window wasn’t even open, but the sensations still comforted me, just like my real room would. I cringed when David shut the door behind him. How awful his life must have been, living in that ungodly, claustrophobic space every day. No wonder his people were so desperate to find a planet.
David sat me on the edge of my bed. “We can stay in here. I don’t mind.”
“Thanks.” Everything around me, so real, so comforting. But it wasn’t real. None of it. “We’re going to have to figure a way out of this. You know, find the source and all.”
“Yeah, I know.” He blinked, scanning the room. “I don’t think there is much we can do, though, until they start talking. I mean, we can’t even try to break through the barriers, because for all we know the sea is on the other side.”
Good point. “But we can’t just sit here.” I walked to the wall beside my window and pushed. The sheetrock didn’t give at all. None of it did, no matter where I shoved.
“I tried that in my living spaces already. There’s no way out.”
“There has to be. Maybe there are some of those liquid doors like on your spaceships.”
“If there are; they aren’t coded to our DNA.” He took my hands. “When I seek out intelligent thoughts, I feel warmth beyond our walls. I don’t think these beings want to hurt us.”
“Well, the one that looked like Matt didn’t seem all warm and fuzzy. He sounded like he was waving pompoms for team kill-the-humans.”
David glanced over his shoulder, toward the door. “Yeah, I didn’t get a comforting vibe there, either, but the ones watching us now seem more—I don’t know, interested and perplexed.”
“They’re watching us?”
“It would make sense. Can’t you feel them—a presence?”
I closed my eyes and reached out. Something crept toward me, as if the air compacted against my ears. I fluttered my lashes, and the sensation ebbed away. “I feel something. I don’t know. It’s weird. It’s almost like … ” A sharp pain lanced my shoulder. I stumbled closer to David. “Oww!”
“What happened?”
I spun, backing into him. “It felt like someone stabbed me with a pencil.”
He circled around me. I could sense his gaze scanning the room. “There’s nothing there.”
But there had been. “For nothing, it sure hurt.” I rubbed my shoulder.
David stared at the far corner of the room.
“What’s up?”
He paled. “Do you smell anything?”
“Just the roses in Mrs. Miller’s garden.”
He took a step backward and winced. “Oww.”
“Pencil?”
He nodded. The indent of whatever poked him marred his cotton tee-shirt, but the mark disappeared as he turned toward the door. Cautiously, he took another step away from me and grabbed his shoulder again. “Gah!”
He glared at me, and I didn’t have to ask to know he’d been poked again. “Why are they doing this to us?”
“I’m guessing they want us in close proximity to each other.” He released his arm. “I feel like the spores we gather on developing planets. Like we’re under a microscope and being studied for our reactions to stimuli.”
The lights dimmed slightly, and I clutched David’s arm, waiting for something to jump out and grab us. When it didn’t, I loosened my grip, but only a little. “I hope that means show time is over. Maybe they’ll leave us alone now.” His skin quaked under my grasp. “Are you okay?”
“The smell is just … I don’t know.”
“You mean the roses?”
He shifted me from his arms. “Maybe I should go back to my room.” He took two steps away. “Oww!”
“Phantom pencil?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed his arm. “I guess we’re staying here, tonight. Whether we want to or not.”
“It’s okay. It’s not like we haven’t slept together.” My cheeks heated. “I mean, well, we haven’t slept together, but we’ve, umm, you know what I mean, right?” Yeah, Jess, he knows you’re an idiot.
He laughed. “I can sleep on the floor if you want.”
A knot formed in my chest. That wasn’t what I wanted at all.
I’d spent two years trying to forget how I felt about him, but David had always been there, in the back of my mind: present, even in his absence.
When he was trapped underwater, and I brought him air, the depth of our connection finally hit me. We really were part of each other. There was no denying that anymore.
“I don’t want you to stay on the floor.” I slipped my hand in his. “I’ve missed you. Can’t we fall asleep holding each other, just like we did in the woods?”
His smile caught what little illumination remained in the room.
“You know I’d love to stay with you. But I wasn’t sure if you wanted that. You weren’t exactly happy to see me when I stepped off my ship.”
No, I suppose I wasn’t. “I’m sorry. I guess I freaked a little.” Or a lot.
Poor Matt. I just left him there.
The scent of the roses heightened, whisking thoughts of Matt away. David stared at me, his eyes wide, beautiful, and hopeful. I reached for him. “Stay with me tonight. Please?” I tugged him toward my bed.
He didn’t put up much of a fight. “All right. That would be nice.”
Reaching the edge of the mattress, I turned toward him, running my fingers up the center of his chest. Every second I spent with him we seemed to grow closer, as if part of me was meshing with him. But at the same time he felt like a stranger. He had this whole other life away from Earth, away from me, like he was a different person.
Then again, he was a different person, wasn’t he?
“You know, it never occurred to me that I should call you Tirran.”
He twitched under my fingers. The set of his eyes changed, as if he’d been slashed with a knife.
“I’m sorry. I meant Tirran Coud. I didn’t mean to drop your mother’s name. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
He grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away from his chest. “There’s no disrespect when you are as close as we are. But you can continue to call me David.”
I shook my head. “But that’s wrong. It’s just a name you plucked out of my head. It’s … ”
“My name now.” His voice—so tense. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them. “I prefer who I am with you. Tirran Coud is …” He closed his eyes again. “The name David gives me peace, helps me to … ” He looked up at the ceiling.
What was it? What was he so desperately trying not to tell me?
His gaze returned to mine. “David is the name you gave me. This might be hard to understand, but it’s precious to me. Please don’t take it away.”
Take it away? That’s not what I meant. That wasn’t it at all. I shook my head. “Okay. David it is.”
His eyes still swirled unnaturally, as if there was far more to it than a name. Maybe someday he’d be comfortable enough to explain, but that obviously wasn’t right now.
And it wasn’t really the worst of our worries at the moment. I shook the odd fog from my head, realizing that this wasn’t really my room; and we should be terrified, not having a conversation about names, and …
My muscles slackened, easing away my stress and concern over … what?
I rolled my sore shoulder as I sat on the mattress. “I know I woke up just a little while ago, but I’m tired, like I haven’t slept at all.”
“I don’t think we actually slept. Everything has been manipulated since we got here.” He stretched his neck. “From the lack of regeneration in my muscles, I’d have to guess we’ve been awake since we left Silver’s people. About three hours.”
Only three hours? I narrowed my eyes. “You can tell how long you’ve been awake by how much your neck hurts?”
He turned to me. “Can’t you?”
“No.” I rolled my shoulder. My neck did hurt a little, come to think of it. “How long do you think we’ve been underwater?”
“A little over a day, at most.”
I yawned. My bed whispered, begging me to cuddle my favorite pillow. I rubbed my eyes and blinked the feeling away. Maybe they lowered the lights for a reason. If we fell asleep, who knew what they would do to us? “Maybe we shouldn’t sleep.”
“I still don’t feel any malice. Just interest.”
He eased beside me and jumped when I placed my hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He flopped onto the bed. His eyes seemed puffy, even in the low light. “We should just try to get some sleep.” He turned onto his side and perched himself on the edge of the mattress, giving me more than enough room.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m just … I’m sorry. I’m … ”
I tugged gently on his shoulder, laying him back on the bed. “What is it?”
He shifted his weight. “This is extremely awkward.”
“Why?”
He turned away again.
“Please tell me what’s wrong.” I reached over him and slid my fingers down his torso.
He stopped my hand at the base of his ribcage. “Are you sure all you smell is roses?”
I took a whiff of the air. “I guess so. I really don’t even smell it anymore.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.” He kept his back to me.
“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“We’re being manipulated. They want to see what we’ll do.”
“About what?”
He blurred in the low lighting, and in one swoop of the sheets, we were sitting, facing each other. He held my wrists near my shoulders. “They are pumping pheromones into this room.”
“Pheromones? Why?”
His hands shook on my wrists, his gaze lingering on my lips before returning to my eyes.
Oh. That’s why. “They can’t possibly think we’ll … can they?”
His face didn’t change. He barely seemed to breathe.
The scent of the flowers heightened, relaxing me. My room was a haven. The one place on Earth where I was truly at ease. Safe. I nuzzled David’s neck, taking in his earthy smell.
“Jeeesssss … ” He leaned away.
I smiled as the turquoise in his irises swirled toward a deep gray before returning to blue. “I don’t need pheromones to want to be with you, David.” I twisted one wrist free and ran my fingertips along the edge of his cheek. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I-I’ve missed you too.”
I trailed soft kisses along his neck. His grip on my other wrist slackened. “Jess, I don’t think we should … ”
“I’m not asking for anything we haven’t done already.” His pulse thumped beneath my lips. “This isn’t the pheromones. It’s just you—” kiss, “and—” kiss, “me.”
He grabbed my shoulders and stared, as if memorizing the lines in my face. His grip tightened and slackened. “Maybe you’re right. Everything should be fine.” He shook his head to clear it. “Wait. No. It will not be fine. I can’t. We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t understand. I’m getting older now. Things are different.”
I kissed him gently on the upper lip. “They don’t have to be. I forgive you for being away so long.”
He trembled beneath my touch—just the reaction I wanted … needed. It had been far too long since I’d touched him.
I slid my hands behind his neck and combed them through his disheveled locks. The sensation of the soft fibers running between my fingers sent a shiver down my spine. This hair and skin wasn’t his. It was a costume. Protection from Earth’s cooler temperatures and protection for me, so his touch didn’t burn. The last time we’d seen each other, he’d gone through the horrible pain of infusing this human skin onto his own just so he could hold me. No one had ever sacrificed themselves like that for me. Ever. I loved what his human façade symbolized, but I really wanted what was beneath—the flawless violescent skin—the real David.
I formed a vision of him holding me with pearly lilac hands, imagined my palms rolling over his bare scalp, soaking in the heat emanating from his perfection. I opened my thoughts, thrusting them toward him. His eyes widened and his grip on me tightened.
I’d lied to him. I wanted so much more than stolen kisses in the woods. I wanted all of him. Now.
Our foreheads grazed. “I’m ready. I want to.”
His lower lip trembled and fell into a gape. “I-I, we-we can’t. I’m afraid I’d … ”
“Don’t be afraid.” I dragged my fingers along his back, over the soft cotton. I kissed the soft space on his temple. “All tha
t matters now is us. What feels right. What feels good.”
A flash of uncertainty raced across his features—the same hesitation I saw when we started getting intimate in the shelter he built for us on the green planet.
I slipped my hands to either side of his face. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I don’t care about Nematali, or my father, or any other human or Erescopian. This feels too right—you and me, it is right.”
He kissed the inside of my hand. “It would be incredibly selfish of me not to point out that everything you just said might be because of the pheromones.”
I gathered all my strength, all my need, all my desire—packaged it up in a little ball and flung it into his psyche. He shuddered, leaning back and breathing heavily.
A smile crossed my lips. “Was that pheromones?”
His nose flared. “No.” Flashes of green, blue, and purple swirled into his irises, as if the natural colors that made up his eyes separated and fought to become one again. He grabbed my hips and pulled me closer. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Then you should have come home sooner, because this is all I’ve been thinking about.”
A growl erupted from deep within his throat. He lifted me with one hand, pressing me against his stomach. “Volo tamier estmale esse cuin medio tui, est,” he whispered, trailing his warm breath along the side of my face.
The words held a cadence that settled over me, stroking me from within. “What does that mean?”
“Mea est.” He ran his tongue along the soft space just below my ear. A light groan tickled from his lips. Needy. Demanding.
Screw it. I’d find out what it meant later.
Energy surged through our tether. David sought out, found, and caressed each cell within me, sending a charge of pressure and tension riddling back to the surface. Deep folds of need coursed across my skin, darted within, and exploded in an eruption of tingling, scorching sparkles burning and cooling from the inside and bursting out like a megaton bomb. The sensations whirled together, too many to comprehend. I clung to him, panting as the shockwave subsided.
The hairs on my arms stood out as I stretched back with a sigh.
He didn’t need to be physically inside me. He was already there.
Embers in the Sea Page 10