“When we depart Surreal, you can come with us,” Kenner said.
“Asher and I are heading to the ship for more updates. We’ll return Fluffy for you,” informed Andros, cleaning up his mess.
Asher kissed his wife on the cheek and rose from the table. “Thanks for lunch. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Be careful.”
“I will.”
John lowered his cup. “What about me?”
“You’ll be staying with us,” said Bogdan, matter-of-factly.
“I am?”
“Of course. You were freezing back at the castle. You’ll be more comfortable staying with us.”
The others left the dining room, leaving Bogdan and John alone.
John thought about Bogdan’s offer. He would be more comfortable staying at Bogdan’s home, but that would mean he would not be near Jasira.
“I can’t,” he blurted.
Bogdan stood from his seat. “Cannot what?” He placed his plate in the sink.
“Stay. I can’t stay.”
“Of course you can. You have all your things, and we have the room.”
“No.”
“There are several rooms—”
“It’s not that.” John grew anxious. Could he tell Bogdan about his feelings for a ghost? Would Bogdan understand? Had this happened to anyone else before him? John placed his face in his hands. “God, help me. I don’t know what to do.”
Bogdan returned to the table and pulled a chair closer to John. He spoke softly. “We are alone, John. I can see there is something more on your mind. Talk to me, my friend.”
John stayed silent.
“I give you my word not to repeat anything you say.”
Thoughts of not being near Jasira made John desperate for help. “Your word?”
“Yes.”
John lowered his hands. After a long breath, he began. “I spoke to King Yudit. He told me about the Terrorshans…the Medlothians…the people of the mist.”
“Then you know everything you need to know.”
“Not really,” mumbled John. “I neglected to ask him a crucial question that you guys answered for me.”
“What question is that?”
“When did it happen?” John looked Bogdan in the eyes. “Was Jasira born then?”
Bogdan’s eyes hinted that he understood where John headed. “Jasira is my sister’s age, twenty-three.”
John softly repeated, “Twenty-three.”
An image of the claw marks on Jasira’s chair flashed in his head. He felt his blood pressure drop further. It felt like someone punched him in the stomach. John covered his face and gasped for breath.
“Seacat?”
“She’s dead…because of the Terrorshans?”
“She is mist because of the Terrorshans.”
John was unable to speak. Tears filled his eyes. He had hoped Jasira had died before the war, preferably a century ago, erasing all possibilities of her being his soulmate. Alas, the Terrorshans had killed her when she was only three.
He thought about how Jasira made him feel cared for. How she made his soul feel like it was on fire when she touched him. It was because she held the other half to his soul. Jasira was his soulmate. He would never hold his truelove in his arms. He would never have children with her. He would never be complete. His tears fell.
Bogdan grasped his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
John shoved back his seat and hurried out of the house. He did not want to talk to anyone. He did not want to be near anyone. His life had begun as a nightmare. He had believed it could only get better now that he was an adult. He was wrong. Dead wrong.
His life had become a living hell. His empire was under attack. He knew nothing about his family’s fate, but he feared the worst. A great war awaited him in Sea-anan space, and he had to face it without hope of ever sharing his unknown future with his truelove.
Defeated, John stopped running in the middle of the field and dropped to his knees. He raised his fists and cried in anguish.
As the day went on, the feeling of defeat intensified, becoming overwhelmingly difficult to overcome. John decided to stay at Bogdan’s house. In his depressed state of mind, he believed it was best not to return to Jasira. The fates had made certain there was nothing he could do. He could not bring her back. It was best to let her go.
That night was the first night John lay in a bed in a long while. The bed was big and comfortable. Too big. It made him feel insignificant and alone. The night was warm and cozy—no need for a fire. Yet sleep eluded him. John remained awake, staring at the ceiling, longing for his other half.
Jasira stormed out of the stable and toward her house. How could John have stayed at Seeker Bogdan’s home? He knew he had medicine to take that evening. He knew she lived in the city, nowhere near Bogdan’s house.
Was that why he stayed? Was he avoiding her? He had not wanted her in his room last night. He had tried to leave without her knowledge that morning. It made sense. John’s actions shouted it was over between them. Her kindred soul did not want anything to do with her.
Jasira entered her house and started pacing, fearing the worst. Was John planning to leave Surreal without saying good-bye? Did their time together mean anything to him? How could John leave without giving their relationship a chance? Was it because she was mist, and he was solid?
Dena was solid. Before speaking to Rau, Jasira had searched the city for Dena. Her heart pounded faster the longer she went without locating her. She learned from Dena’s parents that Dena was away. If Dena was with John, Jasira was going to strangle the backstabbing traitor.
The more Jasira thought about them being together, the angrier she became. Needing a distraction, she went to the broom closet and waved her hand. It took several tries, but she finally got it to open. She willed herself to control her rage. It was interrupting her link to the planet’s energy core.
Jasira waved her hand at the broom. Nothing happened. She tried again. Nothing. The more Jasira tried, the angrier she became. She lost her temper and yelled at the broom to move. It stayed in the closet.
She unthinkingly reached for the broom. Her fingers wrapped around the handle. “I said, move, you piece of wood!” When she pulled her arm back, the broom went along with it. Jasira gasped and dropped the handle.
What had she done? It was impossible. The only thing she could touch was John. She waved her hand at the broom. It lay on the floor, unmoving. Jasira tentatively reached for it, her heart racing. Her fingers met the handle’s hardness. She pulled her hand back, feeling breathless. Was this really happening?
For years, she had dreamt of being solid, of being able to see her reflection, of being able to touch and lift things. She examined her hands. They were transparent mist, held together by the planet’s energy core. They seemed normal. She felt unchanged. She studied the broom. It looked the same as it always did.
Jasira carefully fingered the long wooden handle. It was solid. Smooth. Real. Her fingers curved around it. She squeezed. Her fingers stayed where they were and did not go through the wood as they normally did. Her accelerating heart began to hurt. Jasira clutched the material over her breasts in one hand while she stood with the broom in her other hand. She could not believe it. She was holding the broom.
She glanced at the dining table, wondering if what was happening was a fluke. Jasira hurried over to touch the table. The wood felt smooth and solid. She grabbed the nearest chair and manually repositioned it. A short cry of joy escaped her. Jasira dropped the broom and raced around the kitchen, touching everything she possessed. She lost herself in the different textures—rough, smooth, and the hard metallic feel of the teakettle.
Jasira ran to her bedroom, wanting to touch her mother’s quilt. The door was closed. She did not think anything of it until she crashed into the door. Dazed, it took her a moment to regain her balance. She stared at the door. What just happened?
Jasira tried to contain her excitement and mentally focus
ed on entering her room. She walked forward. Again, she collided with the closed door. She flattened her palm against the wood. Her hand would not go through it.
Jasira grabbed the knob and turned it, opening the door like a solid person. She intently looked the door over as she entered her bedroom. Did this mean she could no longer go through solid objects? Was she close to being solid? Her excitement bubbled up within her.
Jasira hurried to her bed and lovingly fingered the quilt her mother had made her. Tears of joy fell down her cheeks. She felt a new appreciation for her parents’ efforts.
Overwhelmed, she pressed down on the mattress with her hands. She had slept on the bed for years. However, it was only an illusion. For the first time, Jasira could actually feel the mattress. She climbed onto the bed and rolled around. Is this what the others meant by soft and comfortable? She laughed. It was better than hovering over the mattress, making believe she was resting on it. The bed was sure to become one of her favorite pieces of furniture.
A thought occurred to her. She rose to her feet and started jumping on the mattress. Her joyful laughter was heard from outside.
John stepped onto the small balcony. He glanced up at the cloudless, blue sky. The day promised to be another scorcher. His gaze roamed across the land. He was not in the right frame of mind to appreciate the grassy plains and mountainside.
It was hard to believe it was Christmas Eve. It had been seven months since Daehog attacked Sea Base Ten. Being alone on this particular holiday made John long to locate his family even more. It, also, made the absence of his soulmate more profound.
He activated his translator and headed for the dining room. Bogdan and his family were gathering around the large table for breakfast. Bogdan took one look at John and paused in taking his seat.
He went around the table and placed a hand on John’s left shoulder. “Are you feeling all right? You look pale and tired.”
“I didn’t sleep last night.”
“At all?”
John shook his head. “Not one minute.”
Bogdan squeezed his shoulder. “John, I’m sure your family’s thoughts are with you. Once the ships arrive, we’ll leave immediately. Have faith.”
John looked Bogdan squarely in the eyes.
“Faith?” he snickered. “I had all the faith one person could have, and what did I get for it? I’m alone on a distant planet. My family might be gone. My empire is almost gone. And my soulmate is gone. Tell me, what good is having faith when you have nothing left?” He pulled out the chair and plopped down. The others stared at him. John ignored them and reached for a cup of hot tea.
Breakfast was quiet after that. Bogdan snuck side-glances at John, who barely ate anything. John was the first to leave the table. Bogdan followed him to the front door and watched him exit the house. John’s words repeated themselves in his head. He could not allow John to continue with his dejected mood. It could endanger Jasira’s chances at becoming solid. He returned to his family and quietly discussed his thoughts. After breakfast, he left for the city with his father-in-law, Gorwin.
John returned to the house after his morning jog. It seemed Bogdan had told his family the day’s significance, for they tried to make him feel like part of the family. After he bathed, the men took turns showing him around the estate.
Audra and the women in the family made a special lunch and dinner in John’s honor. He did his best to show his appreciation, but he had no appetite. Unable to endure their happy faces any longer, he excused himself and went to the room assigned to him.
John sat on the bed and removed his boots. He needed to figure out what to do next. The plans he had made while growing up had to be changed. He recalled visiting Mira after lunch. He had envisioned Mira being Jasira. The twins she carried were his offspring. Both his heart and soul had hurt so much he had to leave the room.
That dream would never come to pass. His soulmate was dead. And after being with her spirit, John knew for certain there could be no other. He would be alone for the duration of his life.
John closed his eyes and lay back on the mattress. He recalled Jasira’s wonderful fragrance. He could smell it as if she was nearby. He wondered how she reacted when she learned he had not returned to the city.
The aroma grew in strength. Audra had mentioned over dinner that she was baking vanilla cookies for dessert since they were John’s favorite. John had insisted she did not have to. It seemed she ignored him. Again.
The lines on John’s face deepened. The scent evoked memories of his time with his soulmate. It would torment him forever. He prayed the Dominion would end his suffering soon, for he could not find the desire to continue living, knowing Jasira was already on the other side.
There was a soft knock. He detected two life forces beyond the bedroom door. He did not want to speak to anyone, so he ignored it. The knock repeated. Through the layers of anguish, John realized what he was doing was rude, so he forced himself to answer the door.
Audra smiled up at him. “Merry Christmas.” She lifted the tray she carried. “I brought you vanilla cookies. Your favorite.”
John noticed that was not all she brought. Along with the cookies were a teakettle and a cup. He glanced around. “Merry Christmas. So your brother did tell you.”
Audra was alone, yet John detected a second life by the railing. His gaze narrowed. Where had the ghost come from?
“He tells me everything.” Audra smiled wider. “My gift to you is these cookies. Bogdan got you a special gift.”
John saw the twinkle in her eyes.
“It’s time for your medicine.”
John’s breath snagged. He had not told anyone he was taking medicine for his cold. His gaze whipped to the energy force. “Jasira,” he breathed.
Audra giggled. “Can we come in?”
John quickly stepped back, tripping over the door. His eyes remained on Jasira’s life force as it floated into the room.
“Jasira heard you were staying with us. She returned with my bruhder an hour ago.” Audra placed the tray on the desk beside the double French doors. “She said you were under her care for your cold. You already missed two dosages.” She lifted the kettle and poured the medicine into the teacup. “She was not about to let you miss any more. She brought the medicine with her.” Audra lowered the teakettle.
Blinking back tears, John hurried to the double doors. He pulled the curtains aside and stared out at the garden beyond the small balcony. He did not know Audra approached him with the cup. His senses were locked on Jasira, who stood beside the fireplace.
“John?” Audra held the cup out for him to take.
John looked at the cup then toward his soulmate. His core overflowed with passion and anguish. “I want her to give it to me.” His voice was barely a whisper.
Audra faced her friend. John slowly realized that Jasira’s aura was stronger than the last time he was near her, which was why he had not recognized her. Jasira neared him. John could barely breathe. Audra handed Jasira the cup and moved away from the couple. Jasira lifted the cup to John’s lips. He drank the foul liquid without tasting it. His entire focus was on the woman who had stolen his heart.
Jasira touched his left cheek. John closed his eyes. His face turned to her hand. Her touch was a soothing balm over a painful wound. Her fingers entangled themselves in his hair. They tugged him forward, downward. Blood rushed through John’s veins, roaring in his ears. He missed the sound of the bedroom door closing and the crash of the cup breaking on the floor.
Jasira’s lips were softer, warmer, more aggressive than he remembered. John groaned and eagerly responded to her demands. Jasira moved away, but he refused to end the kiss so soon. He followed, inching forward each time she stepped back, turning when she turned. He loved the way Jasira tasted, the way she met him stroke for stroke.
A second perfume filled the room, weakening him further. How could he face life without experiencing these sensations? He could not. He spoke the truth when he told Bog
dan that nothing was more important than a soulmate. Jasira was his soulmate, which meant she was his life. If they could not be together, then he had no life to live.
“I’m sorry,” he spoke over her moving lips. “I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked.
Jasira paused in her kiss.
“I learned when the attack occurred.” His heartfelt emotions sounded in his voice. “I wish I had been older. Had I been of age, had I known what was happening to you, I swear I would have left everything and rushed to your side. I would have faced the Terrorshans and kept you safe.”
John tried to grip Jasira’s shoulders. His fingers curved and opened. He desperately wanted to hold her and never let go. Alas, there was nothing to grasp but warm air.
“I never would have let them hurt you.” He made two fists and placed them at his sides. Annoying tears blurred his vision. “I never would have let them take you from me.”
Jasira framed his face and brought him to her. She rubbed her face around his. John felt every curve and angle of her features. His resolve to be strong broke.
He returned the gesture, revealing what was in his heart. “I scent you mine. You belong to me.”
The pressure on his shoulders made him aware of the mattress behind his legs. Jasira wanted him to sit down. He did. Her fingers traced the tears that fell from his eyes.
“I have always been yours. You knew that, didn’t you? That’s why you came to me, why you kissed me at the castle that evening. You knew we were meant to be together.”
She tapped his shoulder once.
John’s eyes closed on a sob. “I need you.” They reopened, glowing bright. “I need you more than I need to breathe. I can’t live without you. I can’t—”
Jasira closed her mouth over his. Her heart could not bear any more of John’s sorrow. It was in his eyes, in his voice, in the taste of his tears. She had to ease it, or it would kill her.
.
Chapter 11
Jasira climbed above John, nudging him to scoot further back on the mattress. She began to unbutton his shirt.
A Lost Kitten Page 15