Finally, Ezra speaks: “You can’t just kill thousands of people who don’t agree with you, especially if they’ve been brainwashed. Ryn, come on.”
I shake my head in disbelief. Why does Ezra suddenly believe that I want to kill people? Am I twiddling my fingers together like some mustache-twirling villain and maniacally laughing like a psycho? He knows me.
Or . . . at least, I thought he did.
I wonder if Levi was right when he said I’d only known Ezra a short time. That I couldn’t be sure of anything because it really hasn’t been all that long for us. Sure, Levi was being an asshole when he said it, but right now it feels like Ezra and I are nowhere close to being on the same page. In fact, it’s almost as if he’s baiting me.
And it’s really starting to piss me off.
“No,” I say, holding up my hands, palms out. “No way. Your help is invaluable when it comes to the computer stuff and the decryption, but the tactical part of this equation? The strategy when it comes to fighting and winning? The morality of possibly having to take lives when it’s us who might have to do it? No—that has to be our call.”
“‘The computer stuff’? That’s what you want to call my contribution?” Ezra folds his arms. His chin is set and his brilliant blue eyes focus on me with laser-like precision. But if he thinks I’m intimidated, then he really doesn’t know me. I meet his gaze with the same intensity. It’s naive of him to assume there won’t be collateral damage if we want to get out from under this. And it’s petulant of him to think I was trying to denigrate what he’s provided this mission. What he’s given me. I try to remember that one of the reasons I love Ezra is his optimism and his faith that people deserve the chance to be saved. This kind of reasoning is all well and good in a safe room, deep underground and far from harm.
The problem is, optimism doesn’t hold up all that well on the battlefield.
“You know that’s not true, Ezra,” I say. I take in a big gulp of air—I seem to have been doing that a lot lately—to get my simmering anger under control. I keep my eyes locked on his, though, because I want him to see that what I’m saying is sincere. “We’re here right now because of you. There’s a bigger picture here, though. Speculating on how we proceed in the future is pointless unless we have as much information as possible. We won’t get that information without grabbing another Citadel. Let’s just start from there.”
“Agreed,” Levi says while leaning forward. God—of course he’d chime in right now. While I’m grateful for his support—and he’s definitely in his element with all this talk of kidnapping and war—the last thing I need is for Ezra to be reminded that I have more in common with Levi than with him.
Ezra remains silent. He shakes his head and his brown hair falls into his eyes. He swoops it back, exposing the strain on his face.
“I say we take a Spiradael,” I suggest, hoping to get us past this current awkward moment. “We are faster than them, and stronger, and our body armor should protect us from their weird machete hair. More important, they’re probably the easiest to break, as they aren’t brainless thugs like the Orsalines, naturally crafty like the Daithi, or had their intelligence enhanced like the others.”
“I concur,” Iathan says while pointing at all the other Citadel races in the projections around the room. He makes a slight flick of his thumb and index finger so that they all disappear until all that’s left are the photos and footage of the Spiradaels. “We had, through our assets, a basic knowledge of their language, but Edo’s files provided an entire lexicon of the language.”
“Perfect. Levi and I can learn it tonight and we’ll go tomorrow.” There. A plan. I’ve had enough of this for today. Right now, I want to be alone with Ezra.
“Very well. I think we could all use some time to reflect on what we have learned from each other today. Ezra Massad informed me that you would wish to share his living quarters with him. Is that still the case, Ryn?”
I can’t tell if Iathan is being polite or if this is another of his tests. I can’t help but suspect at least some of it is the latter, as he’s watching all of us intently, Levi most of all. Of course, it might be that something dawned on him—I’d have been shocked if he hadn’t picked up on the tension between us, considering it’s been growing by the minute. The air in this large room is thickening with unsaid words and wandering suspicions. I don’t have the courage to steal a look at Levi in the face. We might have been on the same page when it came to a battle plan, but this is an entirely different kind of fight, one that he won’t win. And then there’s the fact that Ezra wouldn’t like it if I looked at Levi, either—and that makes me both upset and mad, as if I have to explain myself to him.
Fuck!
I hate having to answer Iathan aloud. I feel like he’s making me choose in front of all these people for no reason other than to get a little payback for the way I’d manhandled him earlier. I shake my head. Petty little shit.
“Yes,” I finally say. “Ezra and I will be sharing a room.”
Chapter 22
With my admission, Iathan and his minions dismissed us without ceremony and we are being escorted down a long hallway by two Karekins. Levi is walking ahead. Ezra is beside me. I want him to take my hand, but he has not. I should reach for him, but I don’t. The concrete walls are smooth, with tiny deposits of minerals that flicker in the overhead lights. I could trail my fingers across it. It would be good to touch something solid, something my own skin might recognize as familiar as Ezra continues to keep his distance. But I know that would be inappropriate. Something a teenager might do instead of a soldier. In this place, in front of others, at least, I must always be a soldier.
I don’t want to, though.
So instead I glance at Ezra, whose lips curve upward in the barest hint of a smile. I grin in response and of course it’s that one moment when Levi finally looks back, right at us. He quickly whips his head forward once more. I keep my eyes locked on to Ezra’s face and pretend I didn’t see Levi look. Just like touching the walls, it’s probably juvenile to be feeling happy when I’m pretty certain Levi is feeling shitty. One feeling should cancel out the other, I think. I bite my tongue to stop myself from asking Ezra about how I should feel. Ezra would know the answer, but obviously he’s the last person I should be asking. I can’t even believe it crossed my mind. I’m so stupid in the romance department it’s laughable.
We stop in front of a painted metal door. “There’s no handle,” I remark.
“The Roone technology is all about sound,” Ezra informs me with a little shrug. “Open door,” he says, and I hear a click. The metal swings open silently. The Karekins escorting Levi continue once again down the hallway.
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” I holler in a tone that sounds overly saccharine, even to me. I’m overcompensating. I know it. Levi says nothing in response. He doesn’t even turn around. He just waves a single hand above his head. It’s there for only a second and then it’s back down at his side. I stare at his back as he walks away. I know he’s upset. I’m not a person who just hurts people—at least, I don’t hurt their feelings. That’s probably not true, either. I can be brusque, bossy even. But I would never go out of my way to hurt anyone.
“Do you want to go in?” Ezra asks with an edge to his voice. “Or would you like to watch Levi walk all the way to his own room?” I exhale loudly to show I’m not exactly pleased with comments like that and push past him into the living quarters. I hear Ezra command the door to shut and finally we are alone. And as rough as it’s been to get here, I knew I would finally make it. I knew if I just held on and stayed focused, I could find Ezra, and now, here we are.
Surrounded by silence.
The space is large and mostly concrete, warmed with a folksy but colorfully abstract tapestry on one wall—a leftover, I guess, from when the Roones were artists and philosophers. Another wall is painted cobalt blue and the bed is large with ivory linens. On either side sit two lamps on wooden bedside tables, providing ample
light for the space. There is a large desk where Ezra has made himself at home. Papers with his handwriting are scattered about next to his and Edo’s laptops, which are open but not powered up. There’s also a computer interface built right into the metal of the desk, just like in the war room.
It’s like a cozy home, with none of the welcome.
I drop my pack to the floor. I look at Ezra and he looks at me. He doesn’t say anything, but by the set of his jaw it’s clear that he’s pissed. While he’s got a lot to be upset about, I would think seeing me would be more than enough to get us past that, at least in the short-term. I really am naive about relationship stuff. Because even though I get where he’s coming from, his being pissed pisses me off. I’m ready to get into this, to ask him what the hell his problem is . . . but not in my damn uniform. I have the sudden urge to just feel like a normal girl. “I’m going to take a shower and change,” I announce, hoping he’ll stop me, hug me, kiss me, anything me.
But he doesn’t, and my stomach drops.
“The bathroom is right through that door,” Ezra says indifferently. I don’t bother to answer. I do, however, rummage around optimistically in my pack for a toothbrush. When I find one, I walk to the door he indicated without even looking at him.
Two can play this game.
Unlike the bedroom, the bathroom is purely utilitarian. It’s gray everywhere, with a stainless steel sink and toilet that, while it blessedly has an actual seat, still reminds me of one you’d see in prison movies. I move quickly. It’s not the kind of space to luxuriate in. Once I’m showered and dry, I use the cuff to change into navy sweats and a long-sleeved knitted top with lots of ease. Not exactly sexy, but I have a hard time figuring out what to wear at the best of times, and right now I don’t know what would be appropriate. See-through and sexy just isn’t me, and jeans feel too formal. I think this is the right outfit because I could both sleep and go to Starbucks in it.
I open the door and the steam from the shower escapes into the windowless room, my face flushing with the heat. Or maybe I’m flushed because I see Ezra lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He maybe looks slightly less annoyed, but he’s playing it pretty cool. I wish I could play things cool. When it comes to Ezra, I’m about as subtle as a gunshot. He sits up when he sees me, and leans back against the wall behind the mattress, drawing his legs up so his forearms can rest on his knees.
“Where did you get those clothes?”
I smile and hold up my right hand to show him the cuff. “It’s actually technology that we acquired from an amazing race of . . . ummm . . . ‘people’ would be the wrong word. They’re robots, I guess. They call themselves SenMachs, and I can’t wait to tell you all about them. Later.”
Ezra shakes his head and sighs. “Right. Because obviously a magical bracelet given to you by robots is just another day at the office around here.” Any other time this might have been nothing more than a little barb, a joke. Right now, the statement feels loaded. And once more there’s distance between us.
I try to bridge that gap, just a little, by sitting down on the bed next to him. The mattress is surprisingly comfortable, it being a war bunker and all. I put my hand on his knee. “Look, I know you’re pissed about Levi being here—” I begin delicately.
“‘Pissed’ doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he says, cutting me off. “Why him? Of all the Citadels? Him?”
“I told you already. He was the best choice, for my safety and the safety of everyone at Camp Bonneville. We’re soldiers, Ezra, and this made the most sense tactically.” Ezra is ignoring my hand, and resting it on him suddenly feels awkward and forced, so I take it back and put it in my lap.
“I’m not stupid,” Ezra practically spits. “I can see there’s something going on between you two. The way he looks at you. It’s so obvious. Actually, I think even a stupid person would be able to pick up on it. So what exactly is going on? When I left your Earth you didn’t even like Levi.”
The air in the room suddenly feels thicker, hotter. I lift my top up by the collar and fan myself. “I . . . I don’t know where to begin.”
“Why don’t you start with the truth?”
“Ezra—I’ve never lied to you. Ever.”
“Fine. But you’re holding something back. Something you must know is pretty messed up. Or else you’d have just said there’s nothing going on between you two. That he’s infatuated with you but that you don’t feel that way.” He looks at me, and I stare back, unsure how to respond. He snorts. “And you can’t even do that.”
“Why are you being like this? What have I done to make you so angry at me? I came to find you.”
“With him.”
“Yes,” I say quietly. I knew I’d have to tell Ezra—I always planned on telling him. I just never, you know, actually planned how I would tell him. Swallowing hard, I look down at my hands. I’ve faced monsters. I’ve survived a toxic Earth. Been in more fights than I can count, many where my life was on the line.
And this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
“Well?”
I look up, and those blue eyes almost destroy me. How they’re somehow fire and ice at the same time makes no sense, and—as if I’m in a trance—the words spill out. “I’ve been deprogramming him and it’s a little more complicated than I anticipated.”
“You’ve been what?” Ezra asks in a voice that is chillingly calm.
“I had to. It was unsafe for us to travel together and not get his Blood Lust under control, not just for myself but for anyone else we might meet along the way. Back home we can isolate ourselves from situations where it can overtake us, but out here in the field there were just too many variables to leave to chance. It could have taken weeks to find you, months even. I was hoping that it would be this fast, but I had no idea.”
Ezra closes his eyes for a moment, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. “Oh my God, Ryn.”
“Look,” I say, getting up on my knees, tucking my feet beneath me. I put my hands on either side of his face. “It doesn’t matter. I could give you a million reasons why I did it and you could turn around and tell me why they’re all bullshit. The only thing you need to know is that I did what I did to get to you. I had”—I pull his hands away from his chest and hold them in my own—“to get to you.”
Ezra opens his mouth. I think he’s going to say something, but then his eyes change. For a fleeting moment the look reminds me of the way Levi gets when the Blood Lust is about to kick in—anger and despair and intense passion. It is an expression that suggests he doesn’t quite have control. Since I know Ezra would never hurt me physically, I happily know where this is going and I’m not surprised when he kisses me. At first his mouth is gentle. I close my eyes and say a thousand prayers of gratitude. Are there even gods on this Earth? It feels like it. This kiss feels like redemption and sanctuary. Ezra’s lips get more insistent, desperate even, and I respond in kind. His tongue pushes into my mouth and skillfully rolls around my own. We both move up so that we’re both on our knees, another prayer.
Ezra pulls away long enough to get his shirt off and then he tries to help me with my own but of course he can’t. It’s the sensuit. It doesn’t separate. “Cuff,” I say softly. The suit slides off my arms and legs like an oily slick. It flows away from me back into my bracelet. I am totally naked. Ezra gapes at me. He drinks me in. Up and down his eyes eat my skin. He scrambles to get his pants and boxers off.
Ever so gently he nudges me down with his face in my neck. He kisses my collarbone. He licks the space between my breasts. When he takes one of them in his mouth, I groan. It occurs to me then that I have never done this before, that I actually don’t know what to do. Am I supposed to do something? I can feel how hard he is against my thigh. I wrap my hand around him, my palm ready to move back and forth, but he takes my hand away.
“If you touch me like that, I won’t last long,” Ezra whispers playfully. He maneuvers himself around so that he is lying beside me. He takes hi
s hand and runs it down the length of my entire body, making each hair stand on end until he gets to that place where I am wet and pulsing. He pushes one of my thighs away so he can get to the center of me. I bite down on my bottom lip as he spreads me open and finds that one perfect, sweet spot. He flicks and swirls and then dips his finger inside me. At first it’s just the tip of his finger, but as his movements become faster, he goes farther in, all the way inside. My hips buck. I start to pant. My muscles clench; my entire body feels like a live wire.
“Ryn, let go,” he whispers in my ear, “just come for me.” I groan and move my pelvis up to his finger. I clutch the bed and my knuckles go white against the fabric. After a few more moments I do let go. I moan and shiver all the way through the orgasm as it jolts like electricity, making my whole body shiver.
I don’t exactly know what is happening. All I know is that I want more.
I pull him on top of me and he settles between my legs. Ezra looks at me. He’s making sure that this is what I want. I lick my lips and pull his face to my own, kissing my response. He guides himself inside me, slowly. I know this part is going to hurt. I understand that much and I’m glad for it. For a person like me, pain can be a kind of love song. For so long, it was the only physical thing my body could feel. I’ve read and seen enough to know that there is no “normal” when it comes to sex. Everyone has a thing and my thing happens to be that I like a little bit of pain, which seems, all things considered, totally appropriate.
Ezra tries to take it slow, but I put both hands on his ass and pull him all the way in. The sensation makes me yelp. It makes my back arch. It makes me think that I might be close to coming again.
“Move,” I tell him, grinding my hips up and against him. Ezra happily obliges. I wrap a leg around his torso and he lifts his body up, bringing my leg and ass with him under his hand. I use my other foot as leverage so that I can bring him closer and deeper.
The Rift Frequency Page 27