She now understood why she’d remained connected to him. Michael had told Cheverly he loved her, but either he didn’t mean it or he wasn’t in love with her. She wasn’t his true love. If she were, he wouldn’t be able to flirt so easily. At least Venus didn’t think so.
After a few more whispered words, Sharon stepped on the other side of his cell and turned the electrical wall back on. Then she walked away, clack-clacking, which wore on Venus’s nerves. She tried to ignore the jealousy rising up. Frankly, Venus was irritated. She’d be dead in a day. Two at the most. Whatever feelings she had for Michael were irrelevant.
46. The Promise
As Michael climbed on his cot, he handed her a bag. “Here.” He crossed his legs again, a handsome, boyish grin playing on the corners of his mouth. Venus wanted to smack it right off his gorgeous face. There was a bigger part of her that wanted to kiss him. Taste the warmth of his lips again.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes. Thanks for the food. It smells delicious.”
“I know. Right?” He stuck a fry in his mouth and paused, pulling the other half away. “You-you’re kind can eat human food?”
She opened the bag and popped a fry in her mouth. Then grabbed her throat with her hands, pretending to choke. “Ugh. Ack. Ugh. Oh, I’m melting. I’m melting.”
He yelled. “Help!”
Venus stopped, and finished chewing the fry with a smirk on her face. “All better.”
He looked stunned and unsure whether to yell or laugh. He laughed. “That. Was. So. Not. Cool.”
“Oopsie.”
“Oo-oopsie. What do you mean, ‘oopsie?’ I thought you were choking.”
She giggled.
“You really had me there.”
She put another fry in her mouth. He did the same. She was enjoying the look of amused wonder on his face. That’ll teach you to flirt with another girl while I’m around, ya man-whore. She thought it, but she didn’t really mean it.
His life had been horrible so far and it kept getting worse. If he wanted to flirt with a pretty girl, who was she to judge? Venus sighed. “Sorry.”
“I’m not. You helped me forget for a moment. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiled.
“Would you mind finishing your story while we eat?” He took a large bite of his hamburger. Half of it devoured at once. He laughed. “C’mon. Please?”
Sniffing, she removed her burger from its wrapper. It smelled divine—greasy meat, toasted bun, pickles, lettuce, tomato, ketchup, mustard, and onion. Her mouth watered. She had to wipe it with the back of her hand to hide the drool. “Sure,” she agreed and took a bite. Bigger than she’d planned. A pickle didn’t make it all the way into her mouth. The sourness stung her cracked lips. She hurried and shoveled it in. “Where was I?” she asked around her mouthful of food.
He swallowed. “The Suraey tribe was large and bred to kill.” He stuck a fry in his mouth. One. And chewed it slowly. “Mmmmmm.”
She admired the way his lips moved. Sensuous. “Right. Well, when the war began, everyone thought the four tribes would win. Not so. The leader of the Suraey tribe had the leader of the Firclee killed. The people of that tribe made the Suraey leader their own. They captured hundreds of irrihunters, tortured them and starved them.
When they were beyond hungry, they ate their own flesh. That’s when the Suraey fed them prisoners. The irrihunters gained a taste for their flesh and blood. The Suraey trained them with whips until they were beat into submission, giving their people the advantage from the sky and the ground.”
“So, you meant what you said before. You don’t have cars where you come from.” He leaned forward, still stuffing fries in his mouth. The burger had already disappeared.
“Well, yes and no. The Six didn’t have the technology for any kind of moving vehicle. Now, though, we do have transportation. They aren’t like the vehicles of this planet. Ours are way cooler than Earth’s.”
“I doubt they’re cooler,” he said, shaking his head in disagreement.
“Oh, they are. You know all of the smog and pollutants your world is suffocating in?”
“Yeah.”
“We have none of that. We’ve kept our planet clean. No fuel—gasoline, or anything else. Our world remains lush. Green. We live among the trees, mountains, the ground and the oceans.”
“Oh, how does that work? What about roads? Do you have stores?” He picked up the fry container and shook it. Two more fries fell out onto his pants. Michael popped them in his mouth.
“We do have roads and stores. Our cities are high above the ground. Super highways, super stores, every convenience—it’s like two different worlds. We keep them separate.” She paused and picked up a fry. They were getting cold. She took two more bites of burger and threw it down.
“You gonna finish that?” He pointed.
“No. Want it?” Venus picked it up and tried to reorganize the patty on the bun.
Michael flexed a bicep, rotating his fist back and forth. “Um, yeah. Growing boy here.” He stuck his hand through the bars. She handed it to him and watched as he took a huge bite, pushed it into his cheek. Then he asked, “What do your cars look like?”
While Venus brushed some of the salty fries back into their container and tried not to blush, she debated how she’d explain them. Different TV shows and movies she’d seen flashed through her mind. There were The Jetson’s, or Star Wars. Hers were more of a combination of the two. “Let’s see. Take Red and remove the tires.”
He nodded.
“Now make the underneath portion rounded and remove the metal?”
“Remove the metal? But that’s what makes Red—Red.” Michael looked shocked.
Venus let out a small laugh. The tickle had returned, but she ignored it. “It’ll still be the color red, even the same shape, if you want. Only the car isn’t made out of that heavy metal. It’s made out of a flexible metal called absorticum.”
“Absorti-what? Sounds kind of nasty.” He chuckled. Stuffed the burger and fry wrappings back in the bag. Wadded it up and tossed it behind him, onto the floor.
Venus pretended not to notice. “Why n-nasty? It isn’t. The stuff is great. Light. Bouncy. It takes on any color you can think of. And it always looks new. Plus, trycarciuss don’t need oil changes or break fluids. You never have to worry about rotating the tires or fixing a cracked windshield. They’re perfect.”
“The trycarc-whatever.” He laughed self-consciously and brushed off some invisible salt. “How do they move then?” Michael scrunched his eyebrows together as though he were trying to answer the question himself.
“Kelari is a very big planet. We have two suns, each larger than yours, as well as two moons. Our suns and moons produce energy. We’ve harnessed that energy to make our trycarciuss move. The absorticum absorbs their energy.” Venus leaned back, suddenly feeling very tired. It wouldn’t be long now. Death’s door creaked open. “Hey, I’d better finish my story. That is if you’ll stop interrupting me,” she said, trying to sound sarcastic. In reality, it made her happy to see him interested in her home. And that he didn’t seem frightened or disturbed by her alien-ness.
“Of course.” Michael stuck a hand through the bars and touched her face. His fingers cool against her hot skin. He lay on his side and scooted his face as close to the bars as possible. Then, so low she barely heard, he said, “Hang on, Venus. We’re going to get out of here. Promise.” His golden brown eyes searched hers. A slight nod.
Loudly, he continued, “So, I believe all kinds of destruction was about to happen because of the Suraey tribe.”
“That’s right.” Venus lay down and closed her eyes, pushing back tears, allowing his fingers to roam her face. It felt good. She knew she shouldn’t allow this—that she ought to bring up Cheverly—continue to encourage him in her direction. But she didn’t want to. That he seemed interested in her, even if it was pretend . . . well, she felt comforted, if only briefly.
The
re was so much she still wanted to do, experience, become. Right now she’d finish the story of how kelarians came to be. “The Suraeys wiped out the Firclee tribe with the murder of their leaders. That should’ve ended the imminent war, but no. The Suraey leader wanted all of Kelari under his command. He believed he’d been chosen by their Gods to rule. On the morning the battle was to begin, both suns shone bright in the sky. They wal— ”
“Cret! I have another question.” His eyes twinkled at saying her swear word.
“Sounds great coming from a non-kelarian. What did you want to know?” Venus swallowed, fighting the sickness brewing.
“No. No. Never mind. Keep going.”
His thumb touched the edge of her bottom lip. Tingles shot through her body, like she’d been plugged into an electrical socket, except the power had been set too low. Little goose bumps rose on her skin. She cleared her throat.
“They walked onto the battlefield, met the Watret and the other tribes and the war was on. All in the name of power.” Venus swallowed, working to press down the pressure growing in her chest. “The battle went on for days which turned into weeks. And ended after many months. Blood soaked the ground, turning the dirt into a ruddy pool. Soldier against soldier. Woman against woman and finally child against child.
One day a large spark fell from the sky. A fire started. Without hindrance, it grew in size and intensity. Those few who were left stopped fighting each other and worked to fight the fire, but there wasn’t any stopping it. Everything and everyone in its path burned, sparing nothing. Animals, all of the tribes, and even the majestic irrihunters were destroyed.
After many months, the fire went out. Ash dusted the ground four inches thick. A heavy fog covered all of the land, making it impossible to see or breathe. When the fire died, there were very few tribes’ people who remained. With the ash and fog, those few were killed, too. The only warrior left was the king of the Suraey tribes’ youngest son. He searched for years to find others who’d survived. But he couldn’t find anyone. Finally he returned to the battleground where it’d all begun. The ash had vanished everywhere but on that field. Nothing, not rain, wind or snow lessened the thickness of the ash. It clung to the ground, the air, with a viselike grip, so powerful and strong, it was impenetrable. Golath, the king’s son, named the battleground Crying Ashes. He lived on the fringes of the grounds, foraged off the land, and wrote down everything that had, and would, transpire over the years. When he grew old, he lay down and died.”
Michael’s eyes were wide. “No one survived the war. What a waste.” He seemed to be mulling over her words. Venus waited for his next question. She knew what it’d be. “How did your people come to exist then?”
“From the thick ash a child arose. The Goddess of Fire. Or, Aetha. Her skin glowed silver, as did her eyes. And she had white hair. She wore nothing except . . . Can you guess?”
He sat up. She could almost hear the wheels churning. Then she watched the light of knowledge appear and flicker. He’d figured it out. Michael glanced at the black glass before leaning forward, resting his forehead against the bars.
“The boots,” he whispered.
Happiness gurgled through her. He’d figured it out. “Yes, Michael. Aetha was our first immortal, the first kelvieri. The first of a new race.”
“Cool.”
“Alone, she sought for another—someone to share her life with. After many years, she found the Manshum Mountains. Shrouded in mist, only the top could be seen and only from a great distance. The closer she came to the mountains, the harder they were to see, but she continued, drawn to them by an unexplained force. Finally, after many moon rotations, she reached the base of a mountain. Once there, she stayed close, searching. She wasn’t sure for what, but knew she had to continue. Many more days passed and Aetha found a cave.
The wide opening extended high above. Within, the darkness loomed so thick, it felt alive. Fearless, for she knew none, she entered. Never doubting that whatever had drawn her here resided inside. Once she stepped through, a white light appeared and hovered over a form. Curled in the corner, she saw him.
His thick hair, black as night, yet shiny as the Glass Ocean, glistened in the light. When she drew near, he lifted his eyes. Aetha gazed into their depths, the color of the sea, and so full of compassion—and knew she’d found home. He stood—tall and broad shouldered. A smile formed on his lips. She could see he wasn’t much older than her. Immediately, though, she knew, he was hers and she was his.”
“Ith.”
“Yes. Ith had no memory of his family or where he’d come from. His first memories were of the cave. A female irrihunter fed him, took care of him and kept him safe until she died. And then he’d been left alone to fend for himself.
Together at last, Ith and Aetha fell in love, deeply. Their hearts soared with gladness. Love abounded and for the first time they knew perfect happiness.” Venus took in a raspy breath. “But, as you know, nothing stays perfect for long.”
Michael nodded.
“Of course, this is where their story really begins.” A cough escaped, followed by more. Blood spattered her arm and sleeve while she searched for her tissues.
A quick clack-clacking. Sharon was coming again. More medicine. She stepped inside and gave her a shot. This time Venus welcomed the liquid spreading through her veins.
After she’d given Venus the shot, she swiped her badge, bringing back the hum, and then started to walk away.
“Sharon?”
“Hey Michael.”
His flirty smile returned. Michael climbed off the cot and strolled over to his humming wall.
“Would you mind taking this trash for me?” He pointed to the crumpled bag on the floor. “And, would it be possible to get some more tissues?”
“Of course.” She zinged her badge. Michael bent and picked up the trash.
“Venus, you want to hand me your trash, too?”
She did, sensing all helker about to break loose.
“So, Sharon, did my father come back yet?”
She stepped into his cell. “No. He won’t return until morning. You should get some sleep.”
Michael turned and touched her arm. “I will. Thanks.” He handed her the trash. She turned to go. “One more thing.”
“Yes?”
He leaned in as though he were going to kiss her. Their bodies inches apart. Venus knew milliseconds before she saw it what Michael had in mind. Like a snake strike, he grabbed Sharon around the neck. “Where are the boots?”
Sharon gagged, dropped the trash and scratched at Michael’s arm.
“I don’t want to hurt you, but I need you to tell me the truth.”
She’d heard that tone in him before, when he’d told his mother to leave. Michael was deadly serious. Venus didn’t know whether to clap her encouragement or tell him to stop.
“Michael?”
“I’m waiting, Sharon.”
Between gasps, Sharon said, “They’re in room 105. Down the hall. Take a right.”
Michael let her go and she bent over taking in mouthfuls of air.
“Sharon, I’m sorry. Really.”
She stood.
Michael swung a fisted arm and punched her in the nose. A look crossed her face, somewhere between stunned and surprised. Then her eyes went blank, body slackened and she dropped like a stuffed doll. Venus listened to the thud of Sharon’s body smacking the concrete floor and let out a yelp. Couldn’t help it. Venus hadn’t been prepared for the violence.
“By the Gods.”
Michael picked Sharon up and set her on the cot. She looked like she slept, except for the angry red marks around her neck and the blood dripping from her nose. Michael took her badge and said, “I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for a response, he dashed out of his cell and down the hall.
“Fabu, Michael.”
47. Where The Streets Have No Name
The idea of leaving this place hadn’t really entered her mind. She hadn’t seen Michael’
s plan coming. While he was gone, Venus scrambled off the cot, put the tissues in Michael’s jacket pocket and then put the jacket on.
She waited.
And, waited.
After what felt like an eternity, she heard running. Michael slid to a stop in front of her cell. His animated face giving Venus courage. Her boots were in his hands. They didn’t look any worse for wear. In fact, they appeared the same as the last time she’d seen them. She shouldn’t have doubted. Technology hadn’t advanced enough here to harm her Kelvieri’s Boots.
He swiped Sharon’s card, which he now wore around his neck, and smiled. “Told ya I’d be right back.”
“Yeah, quick as a whip,” Venus said with a snort. Her body felt heavy, as though all her blood had drained into her feet. Black spots flashed before her eyes, and her head spun. She figured it was the medicine Sharon had given her, its effects lulling her to sleep.
He handed her the boots. “Here, put them on and let’s go.”
Venus moved to the cot and sat, willing her head to clear. She blinked a few times. That didn’t help. With a sigh, she slipped her feet into the boots, allowing the upper portion to close around her calves. Hoping for the best, Venus stood. “I’m ready, Michael.”
The words sounded like she’d spoken from inside a tunnel. They seemed far away. Her head grew more light-headed, a helium balloon that would soon float away. The black spots had become one large black hole. With a hand, she reached for the cool, steel bars, but they weren’t as close as she’d thought. With a thud, she fell onto her side, crunching her shoulder.
EXILED (The Connected Series) Page 22