by Mallory Rush
"We didn't have the proper permission to be there." That much was true. "And I didn't want him to see you naked." Very, very true.
"Him? How did you know it was a guy?"
"I sensed..." Urich swallowed against the words clogged in his throat. "My father."
"Your father! Couldn't you have gotten my clothes and introduced us? I really would have liked to meet him."
"But I don't want him to meet you," he bit out.
Eva looked hurt. And then, indignant. "Why? Are you ashamed of me? Is there some kind of a stigma attached to pairing up with an earthling?"
"That's ridiculous. I'm a hybrid myself and infinitely prouder of you than Zar ever was of my mother."
"So, dear old dad has a name. But that still doesn't explain why you don't want me to meet him. If you're not ashamed of me, then what gives?"
"What gives is that he might be my biological father but he is no 'dad' to me." Though Zar couldn't help what he was, Urich felt resentment rise as he explained, "a dad shows affection—a concept Deducians can't grasp. Perhaps I can because I'm not pure; Zar is. Only twice has he ever touched me: Once to strike me when I jeered at the emptiness of logic being all there was to existence. I was a child then, and quickly learned my value was based on my abilities and they were only as good as the service I put them to. The other contact came much later. He expressed his pride in my service and hugged me. An embarrassing episode for us both."
"That's—that's... Urich that's horrible." She hugged him so fiercely that it seemed she was trying to give him all the hugs he'd missed as a child. "How horrible for you to be raised with that kind of emotional neglect. It's criminal."
"From your perspective, yes. But yours isn't theirs. They don't know any better, not even Zar, and no blame can be put on them for being what they simply are."
"Call me human, but I blame them plenty and you have every right to blame them even more."
"Do I?" Urich disentangled her arms and held her slightly away. "When I first came to you, I was more like them than not." Worse than they, he had been ambitious—his intent to manipulate Eva to his advantage so he might prove his value beyond dispute.
"But that wasn't your fault," she insisted. "They made you like them. But you're not one of them anymore."
She was right about that. And he was human enough to want those excuses she was making for his cold-hearted plans that had turned on him with a cruel vengeance.
Now was the time to expose himself as the imposter he was. Eva's mood was one of sympathy and she still wore the glow of their intimate bonding. He could better woo her understanding now than at a moment when she could examine more clearly the situation he was responsible for.
Urich snorted in self-derision. Here he went again, trying to manipulate her emotions to his advantage.
"I'm still enough like them bear the mark of the beast and share it with you." Scowling darkly, he set her away. "And there's enough of Zar in me to need some distance from these cloying emotions."
"Cloying?" she repeated, her face filled with hurt. But then she notched up her chin and thumped his chest. "Fine for you, but what about me? I need to be touched. I need to express what I feel and have some feelings returned from you. What are you feeling?"
Guilty. Cornered. Ashamed. Loved.
"I'm sorry, Eva, but I feel claustrophobic." Afraid of gripping her to him and pouring out all that he truly did feel, Urich stepped beyond her reach. "I'll be back. Right now I just need some time alone."
"After—after everything we've..." At his nod, she snapped, "You want your space? You've got it. As far as I'm concerned you can go to hell and the hell if I care if you never come back you—you alien!"
He deserved it, every scathing word. But jagged as his edges were, he gave into the need to vent them on the one soul he loved. "Don't ever speak to me like that again. I won't tolerate such lack of respect from anyone, but especially not you. My mark is on you and the beast who put it there would rather take you to hell with him than burn without his mate. Remember that before you spout such garbage again."
She swiped at her neck as if trying to erase the irrevocable. "Then take your mark back. I won't be stuck with any man who acts like he's lord and master over me."
"Lest you forget, I'm not a man," he said with a coldness to her heated rebuke. Thrusting aside her agitated fingertips, he possessively stroked his thumb over the mark. "And lest you forget, I warned you of the significance of this. Still, you asked for The Kiss. Too late, Eva, you are stuck with that decision and the beast you took for a mate."
Before he marked her again for good measure, Urich turned on his heel. Several paces down the hallway and he heard the door slam—then slam again. No knob. And he wouldn't be fixing it either, since she'd probably lock him out the next time they had a battle of wills.
Eva's was strong and gaining strength. Indeed, he had met his match. Urich smiled grimly, realizing he'd rather be fighting with her than closeting himself in this spare room to restore his clothing and get some perspective to his thoughts.
With that perspective came the hard facts: Life with Eva could have ended already, had Zar come upon them. Zar, who had decided to visit the grounds he was anticipating using himself. And so eager for it, he'd come to see the lay of the land where he'd exult in serving his ultimate purpose.
Traitor that he himself had turned, Urich's only comfort was in knowing that he'd given Eva a protective stay from the very thing he had targeted her for. Could it get any worse?
Oh yes. Much worse. What just cause she would have to despise him for all that he'd done—for all that could still happen to her should he meet his end.
How very precious their time together was and yet he had divided them with this distance and words that had bitten her more sharply than his teeth.
She was surely nursing the wounds he had inflicted by putting his need to brood alone above her need for togetherness. The right thing to do was to make amends as best he could. Again. With a weary sigh, he wondered how his mind could work so quickly only to be such a slow learner when it came to what really counted—the heart.
His own was heavy as he went to her room. Empty.
Not surprising. But then she surprised him, as she so often did, by calling from the balcony, "I'm out here."
* * *
Eva chaffed her arms against the chill of night, the fever in her heart. She didn't want this need for his touch, but when his hand came over hers, she took its comfort and said quietly, "I never want to suffocate you and if that's how you were feeling, then you were right to say so."
"Why are you being so kind?"
"Because I can either stay mad and make us both miserable or let it go—the way I should have let you go instead of lashing out at you because—"
"I deserved it. Eva, I'm sorry, so sorry for ruining what was meant to be a night as special as you are to me." He laced his fingers with hers, squeezed. "It wasn't you I needed to get away from, but a wedge that's between my father and me. Why I struck out at you when I prize you above life itself, that's a mystery to me. Maybe it springs from those emotions I'm still trying to master."
"Those emotions you're trying to master are the ones that enslave us all." She turned her puffy but now dry eyes to his. "It's an irony of life that people tend to take out their frustrations on those they love the most."
Ever so tender was his kiss to each eyelid before he said, "you've been crying."
"Tears are cleansing and crying made me feel better." She smiled wryly. "Almost as good as tearing up what was left of your shirt before I threw your pants over the balcony while I consigned you and Walt Disney both to hell."
"Walt Disney? Didn't he make your favorite movie?"
"Sure, Peter Pan. But mad as I was, I told him all his happily-ever-afters were a crock of shit. And he could put his fairy dust... well, where the crock got its contents."
Urich's laughter rolled across the sky he waved to. "My old home seems about as close as Nev
er-Never Land from here. But this is where the real magic is, not there... Wendy. That's who you remind me of. Wise beyond your years and yet there's enough of the girl in you to still believe in magic."
Eva wrinkled her nose. "I'd rather be TinkerBell. She's the one with all the fairy dust."
Chuckling, Urich pressed a kiss to her palm then folded in her fingers. "Go ahead. Throw it."
Her palm tingled and ebullient laughter bubbled from her throat. She felt as if she held every joy in the world in her hand and how tempting it was to keep all that joy for herself.
But joy, like magic and love, was only good when it was shared. Eva made a silent wish for all three to sweep the world as she cast them to the wind to land where they might.
* * *
His hope was soaring higher by the minute. Watching Raven preen under Justine's toying attentions to his mane of silver hair, Urich patted Eva's knee. She nudged him in the ribs and whispered, "What do you think?"
"It's going better than good," he whispered back, taking note of Raven's broad smile across the pub's table. "He seems to like nachos and cola almost as much as he likes Justine."
"She sure seems to like him." When Justine slid onto his lap, Eva asked, "Maybe a little too much?"
A full day spent showing Raven a good time and Urich was needful of more than his discreet touching of Eva, ever so careful not to raise suspicion of what the long crimson scarf concealed on her neck. But if snuggling was okay for Raven, they could certainly do the same.
Pulling her onto his lap, Urich murmured, "like me too much, too."
"I do," she assured him, cuddling close and giggling when he playfully nipped her ear.
"Eva," Raven said suddenly, "Justine tells me that your scarf gives her some naughty ideas. I haven't been able to guess what those might be, but she says if you'll loan your scarf to us, she'll give me a little demonstration."
Urich stiffened; so did Eva. He'd told her Raven would be upset if he saw the mark—as for why, she'd accepted his explanation that he'd forgone the Tribunal's blessing, a gross breach in protocol he'd clear up later. So wrapped up in the splendor of their insular world, he'd almost convinced himself that love would find a way to overcome any and all obstacles, just as Eva assured him it would.
"Uh... here?" she asked uneasily. "Justine, don't you think a private place would be better?"
"Oh, c'mon, nobody'll notice." She indicated the barrel chair's wood arm. "Let us have some fun."
"Yes, fun!" Raven concurred. Then to Urich, he said, "this fun I'm having is all that you promised it would be. Eva is delightful. Justine is..." he leaned across the table and growled, "Mmmarvelous. The food is—out of this world!" Raven laughed at his own wit while Urich forced a strained chuckle. "I could stay here forever."
Urich subdued a groan. His plan to introduce Raven to Earth's pleasures was back-firing. Hell and be damned, what hadn't backfired since he'd first met Eva in the holodeck?
"Much as we'd like you to stay, aren't you forgetting your meeting with our boss?" he pointedly reminded. "He is expecting you for dinner, and we do need to discuss a few details before you go."
Raven scowled, looking as though the prospect of consuming tasteless protein and bland nourishment liquid held no more appeal than reporting to Zar.
"Of course," he grumbled. Urich breathed a sigh of relief. Then cringed when Raven brightened, saying, "all the more reason to have this naughty bit of fun before I go." He held out his hand to Eva. "Please, might we borrow your scarf? You've been such a generous and lovely creature, and I'd be most appreciative if you'd indulge me with this."
In Eva's ear, Urich sharply commanded, "Don't."
Her gaze darted nervously from him to Raven's waiting palm. "I—I'm sorry, but I've got... a cold?" She sneezed. "I'm wearing it to keep away the draft."
"What draft?" Justine said, fanning herself. "It's too hot in here if you ask me. Then again, it could just be what all this silver hair does to me."
"His hair! Good idea, Justine. Use his hair." Eva wrapped a stream of Urich's around her wrist.
Raven's shrewd gaze fixed on Eva's neck. "Odd that you developed such a sudden cold," he observed, all play gone from his tone. His eyes cut a severe path to Urich's, filled with dread. "But given the condition you're in, keep the scarf where it is. If you'll excuse me, I need to visit the... men's room. Why don't you come with me, Urich? We can discuss our business in there."
Raven nearly dumped Justine on the floor as he stood. Back rigid, he stalked away like a general marching to a war.
Urich held Eva close, gathering what strength he could as he said quietly, "once we're alone, we have to talk."
"I want to talk now. What's going on?"
A nightmare. A catastrophe. He couldn't even begin to describe the devastation about to rip their world to shreds.
"This won't take long. What I have to say to you, will. Raven's waiting. I have to go."
When she didn't budge, Urich returned her to the chair he wanted to send flying through the room, took a bracing drink before returning his glass to the table he wanted to shatter with his fist, then turned toward the fate awaiting him.
Back rigid, he forced his feet forward like a stoic soldier approaching the noose that was waiting to hang him.
Eva watched him go while a sick, sick feeling twisted her stomach and turned her bowels to water. There was a buzz in her ears that blocked out all sound.
Except for Justine's observation: "Gee, that's kinda weird. I thought women were the only ones who went to the bathroom together."
Chapter 19
"You marked her." Raven's livid glare could have sliced a diamond. "How could you commit such a crime?"
"How could I not?" Urich shot back. "It's the only protection I could give Eva and that's a reason more sacred than Zar's mark could ever be. He won't touch her now—not for as long as I'm alive."
"For as long as you're alive?" Raven scoffed. "You've all but sealed your death warrant. And possibly mine. Zar won't forgive this humiliation you've dealt him, and well he shouldn't. How can a ruler rule when his son does worse than spit in his face, and in such a way that his people bear witness to it?"
The door swung open and a patron entered a nearby stall. Lowering his voice to a whisper, Urich pointed out, "there are no witnesses other than you."
"Not yet. But Zar has to know the mate he's expecting won't be delivered as you promised, and duty decrees that he keep nothing of significance from the Tribunal. This is significant. What help I could have given you is gone, Urich. They'll have a full accounting from us both and honor demands that I expose the information I never should have withheld." Raven shook his head in bewilderment. "Why, why did I stay silent when I could have stopped this before it went beyond damage control?"
"You stayed silent because it was the right thing to do." Urich gripped his friend's slumped shoulder and said firmly, "because you are and always have been more of a father to me than Zar was capable of being. I wish I were your son, Raven. And I wish that we could both stay in this world forever. We could have some great fun, eh?"
"Yes, well..." Raven cleared his throat awkwardly and just as awkwardly patted Urich's hand before removing it from the shoulder he straightened. "Unfortunately, wishing won't change anything. We'll face them together, Urich. And we'll accept whatever fate befalls us with the honor we'll likely take to our graves. Agreed?"
Urich nodded, though in his heart he knew his own tarnished honor would rebel against the fate sure to be dealt.
"Prepare the assembly for my return. I'll appear after I speak with Eva." Guts churning, Urich confessed, "I dread that even more than the high court. She's fine and she's good and while I should regret all that I've done, there's no regret in me for loving her despite the price for it."
"She's all that you say she is, Urich. Had I been you, I would have lost my reason, too... son." With that blessing of understanding, Raven said, "please give my regrets to Justine for leaving her to see
to more pressing matters."
"Of course." Urich proffered his hand, which Raven readily shook. "I'll see you. Soon."
A short bow and Raven was gone, his departure coinciding with the flush of a toilet.
Urich thought it an apt summation of the future he had seen and discounted as too fantastical to believe. A future that was sucking him down even now and not even fairy dust could change it.
* * *
"Why did you want to talk here?" Eva said nervously in the rain forest setting of the holodeck.
"Because this is where we started." The bleakness of his tone implied that it was also where they would part.
"You're scaring me, Urich. Why did Raven leave? Why do I get the really horrible feeling that you're getting ready to leave yourself? And that—that whatever it is you said we have to talk about is going to be worse than horrible?"
"It is." He took her trembling hand and her anxiety grew closer to terror; he was shaking too. "There's no way I can soften the harshness of the truth I never should have hidden from you. But I did, Eva. I was human enough to lie to myself and to you. A lie of omission but a lie just the same."
"This isn't happening," she whispered, wanting to cover her ears and not hear any more. "I'm having a nightmare and I'm going to wake up and you'll be there holding me and telling me I had a bad dream, that everything's all right."
"Nothing is all right. Everything is wrong." He took a deep breath while she couldn't get enough air past the constriction of her lungs. "When I first came to you, my purpose was to win your trust. A trust you gave and I didn't deserve. My only hope is that I can spare you the reason I was sent here—to fulfill a role in a very important mission."
Eva commanded herself to hear him out and stay as calm as she could. She had to stay calm to think and she had to think of some way to keep him. "What—what mission, Urich?"
"To bring you willingly to my people. And once there, to assist us with a capability you possess but we lack."