by Angie West
Chapter Seven
Foolish Heart
The day passed in a blur of activity, of practice and planning that went largely unnoticed by Megan and Claire and myself. As promised, Megan took a shower and Claire was even able to coax her into spending the remainder of the day downstairs. The two sisters spent the bulk of the afternoon rotating between the parlor and the kitchen-and the bathroom. Megan was constantly in the bathroom. Most of my time was spent upstairs with Sienna and Ashley.
The little girls took a couple of snack breaks, but beyond that, they mostly kept to the extra large, second-floor, white-on-white bedroom the two shared. At least, I reflected with a tired grin, the room used to be white. It was definitely more?colorful, now.
The girls had done an elaborate forest scene across the entire wall opposite the one that held their twin beds. I had only just barely talked them out of attempting a ceiling mural, praise the stars above. Claire and Mark openly encouraged creativity in their children but I'm pretty sure that sentiment didn't extend to paint drips covering an entire bedroom set.
So I'd breathed a sigh of relief when the girls had decided to expand the wall mural they'd already started, turning it into a huge forest scene rather than trying to pilfer step stools and paint brush extenders. I had provided companionship and moral support for their project-that and sparkles. Lots and lots of sparkles.
The glitter I spread over the wall was static and durable and a very fetching shade of silver. Interspersed throughout the trees of the painted forest were small, twinkling lights that glowed amber in the deepening twilight that had begun to seep through the curtains within the past hour and a half. Night would soon be coming.
"Well, ladies," I stretched my arms high above my head and yawned, "it's been fun but the hour grows late. You know what that means-time for me to hit the road." I began to back out of the room, hoping the children would let this new routine go without an argument and a battle. No such luck. Two small faces fell in complete and utter dismay.
"But Aunt Aries," Ashley protested, "you're supposed to stay the night! You always stay the night."
"Yeah," Sienna added with a frown.
"I don't always stay the night," I protested. "Sometimes I go home to my cabin."
"But not on the nights Grandma Marta makes pot roast," Sienna pointed out with infallible logic.
"Yeah, you always stay here on pot roast night."
The girls were right. I did usually bunk down in one of the mansion's spare rooms on pot roast night-and again on casserole night. In fact, I was here so often I had my own designated "spare bedroom" at the end of the hall, in between Ashley and Sienna's room and the one Megan now occupied.
But that was before. Now, I didn't exactly relish the thought of spending a night under the same roof as Mike Roberts. And with the rest of Claire's family here, and all of them still walking around looking varying degrees of shell-shocked, the thought of staying overnight felt a lot like intruding.
"I'm telling my mom on you," Ashley announced, marching out the door and stomping down the stairs.
With a rueful shake of my head and a grin, I watched her go. The child was relentless, a skill that someday would serve her well, but right now was a pain in the ass.
"Aunt Aries, are you scared of all the people?" Sienna asked in a small voice.
"Scared of the people who were outside earlier?"
"Them, too, I guess." The little girl lifted one thin shoulder and developed a sudden fascination with the pale beige carpet beneath our feet.
"No, not really. After all," I began, watching her carefully, "I know all of those people. But-" I broke off and waited until Sienna glanced up before I bit my lip and shook my head. "Never mind. I shouldn't tell you."
"Tell me what?"
"Oh, it's nothing, really." From beneath my lashes, I peered at the girl. "You'll think I'm silly if I tell you."
"I won't," she breathed, sidling up close. "I promise."
"Well?" I pretended to consider this. "Okay." I finally nodded. "I'll tell you, but you can't laugh at me."
Liquid brown eyes regarded me somberly. "I wouldn't ever laugh at you, Aunt Aries, I promise."
My heart clenched almost painfully at her guileless, genuine response. Lately, it seemed like innocence was in piteously short supply in my world. "Since you promised not to make fun of me, I suppose I shall have to come out with it. I'm afraid of your grandparents."
Sienna's brow furrowed. "Grandpa Bob and Grandma Marta?"
"No." I paused and frowned when I realized I didn't even know the names of Claire's parents. "No, sweeting, your new grandparents."
"Oh. Tish and Andrew."
Tish and Andrew? Huh. They didn't look like a Tish and Andrew.
"I'm scared of them, too," Sienna confessed. "What if they don't like me?" she asked in a very matter-of-fact tone.
"You? You're great. Of course they'll like you. It's me they might not like."
"Well, I like you."
"And I like you." I exhaled and began to tick the points off on my fingers. "I'm your friend and you're my friend. And your mom and dad like us, so do Bob and Marta and Ashley."
"Don't forget Juliette and Tara." She smiled, getting into the spirit of things now.
"Yes. So that makes, let's see?eight friends. We each have eight friends who, without a doubt, no matter what, like us. So, who cares what anyone else thinks, right?"
"Yeah." Sienna's head bobbed. "Hell with them," she said decisively.
"Oh! Ah?" I coughed to cover the laugh that threatened to burst forth like water through a dam. "No, don't say that. Your father's going to be so mad at me if he hears you talk that way."
"Sorry."
"And anyway, that's not the best outlook, Sienna my girl. What if your new grandparents do like you? Then you'll have ten friends and that would be pretty neat, right?"
"I guess so." She still didn't look totally convinced.
"Then what are you waiting for? I think they're in the kitchen with your mom and your new aunt."
"I can't tell if Aunt Megan likes me."
"She does," I told the girl. "She's just really sad right now."
"Oh." Then, "Are you sure they'll want to talk to me?"
"Yep. Here." I grabbed her sketch pad from the nightstand closest to the door and thrust it into her small hands. "Take this with you. It'll give you something to talk to them about. You know," I winked, "to get you started."
She nodded, tossed a quick "thanks," over her shoulder, and was gone.
With a sigh, I dropped down to Sienna's bed. Despite the pep talk I had given the girl, it was probably best I took my leave and headed back to the cabin. Sienna and Ashley's newly arrived set of grandparents were unlikely to approve of a half-dressed, knife-toting woman who taught children to swear, I lamented. No, it was better that I left. If I hurried, it might even be possible to make it home before it was full dark outside.
Not that it would matter. Walking in the dark wasn't much different from camping in the open, which was what I had to look forward to this evening. No way was I sleeping inside the cabin until the window had been repaired and my new security system was installed.
"You're very good with her," a voice from the doorway observed.
"Mike." I climbed to my feet. "What a surprise," I said dryly. "I was wondering how long it would take you to track me down."
His lips curved into a smile. "It wasn't hard. Ashley came downstairs and asked us to tie you up."
"She what?" I sputtered.
"Something about it being pot roast night and story time."
"Yes but still, I think being tied up is a little extreme." I shook my head.
"Could be." Mike lounged against the doorframe and, luckily for his own well-being, refrained from making any snide comments involving me and a length of rope. "What's this I hear about you leaving?"
I took a deep breath. "It's getting late and I need to go home."
/>
"I guess I don't need to ask why you won't spend the night here." He straightened and I thought I heard a faint note of regret in his voice.
"No, you don't have to ask, but I don't mind telling you the truth. It's you."
"Ouch." Mike winced and advanced into the room. "You're hell on a man's ego, you know that?"
I lifted one shoulder in a shrug before turning away to fix my gaze out the window. So much for making it home before dark. Shadows gathered in the driveway and played along the edge of the forest. "I have to leave."
I turned around to find Mike standing in the middle of the room. He was staring at the mural on the wall.
"It's beautiful, Aries." His smile held genuine warmth when he caught my eye.
"I only helped a little. Your nieces are very talented."
"Yes, my nieces are." He put faint emphasis on the word. "I'm still getting used to having two nieces now, instead of one."
"Sienna's a great girl." I bristled instinctively, ready to do battle at the first hint of negativity where the girl was concerned.
"Of course she is." Mike nodded and shoved his hands into the pockets of his brown corduroy pants. "But I've known her for all of twenty-four hours. It's going to take time to get used to her, and she to me."
"Yes," I finally said, exhaling and folding my arms across my chest. "You're right, it will take time." That was true enough. It was hard saying whether I had a natural inclination to be hard on Mike, or if having time to get used to a situation was something of a foreign concept to me.
Probably a little of both, I figured with a covert glance at the man who had been busy sucking the oxygen out of the room from the moment he'd stepped over the threshold. He stood there in the middle of the floor, so casual, damn him. It didn't even bother him to be in the same room with me.
His eyes zeroed in on my own. The faint hum of conversation buzzed from the floor below, but I couldn't make out the words; it was white noise in the quiet semi-darkness of the girls' bedroom. I felt the tension begin to seep from my body and for the first time in weeks, the coatyl and the war and the fear were far away.
Surrounded by pale pink ruffled bedskirts, painted bedroom walls, and twinkling night lights, I felt a sense of safety that was such a rare thing in my world, I wanted to embrace it with both arms and fade into it all at once. I wanted to sit in this room and feel still and invisible and, for a few minutes at least, safe. It had been so long.
It didn't pay to think such thoughts or to covet such things and yet, at that moment they were more real to me than the fear, the grim acceptance of what life had become, of what simply was. It reminded me of happier times, days long gone, and for a moment, I allowed myself to drift, to remember a very different version of Mike and myself?
"I've never met anyone like you."
His admission was quietly made, sincere, and I felt my heart begin to kick painfully in my chest. Suddenly, I was breathless.
"Will you do it for me?"
My gaze lifted from the spot at the ground I'd been smiling at to his grinning face. "Will I do what?" I asked, confused.
"That thing you do with the lights. Can you make objects at will? Anything you choose?"
"Yes." I shrugged, baffled at his fascination for my light shifting, until I reminded myself that Mike wasn't from here-wasn't that an understatement-and so of course the idea of someone being able to create their own light was a novel idea. According to Mike, I was the first person he'd ever seen accomplish such a feat. "What would you like me to make?"
"It doesn't matter," he answered, staring at me with a warmth that made me want to duck my head again. "Whatever you want. I just want to see you create something."
I pursed my lips and sat back on my knees. The sky above was a dark pearl in the midst of full dusk. Another day was about to be put to rest and another night was just beginning. Beside us, the still waters of the lagoon sparkled with the rich color I'd already shimmered and spread along the pool's edge. Pinks, blues, golds, greens, and vibrant reds glowed along the surface and reflected their merry light. It was magic, just like this day had been, just like the night promised to be?just like him.
I cupped my hands and brought them to my face, taking a deep breath and considering all of the miniature animal shapes and bright stars I'd made over the years for the children in my village. Then I stared at the green-eyed, sandy-haired man sitting across from me on the smooth brown rock ledge. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and pictured a color. Red, I thought, my lips curving briefly before I visualized the light, concentrating hard, more so than I normally would, but I wanted this to be perfect.
Very gently I exhaled into my cupped hands, feeling the light well up from somewhere deep within, feeling the heady rush as it spilled over. Warmth filled my palms and when I opened my eyes, a brilliant, shimmering ball of scarlet light pulsed in my hands.
Mike leaned forward and watched with rapt, unblinking attention as I carefully slid one hand out from under the light, moving it up so the raw energy was cradled top and bottom. My fingers moved expertly, bending and dipping and subtly weaving the light into an intricate shape, smoothing here, swirling there, until it was done.
"Here," I murmured, handing the glittery, glowing red rose blossom to Mike.
His hands shook, a quick tremor which he hastily steadied, as he reached out to accept the gift. "It's?incredible."
"There's no stem," I quietly told him, daring to scoot forward on the dark sandstone. "No thorns," I explained at his quizzical look.
"Aries," he murmured, closing the minuscule distance that remained between us and reaching for me.
"Don't leave tonight," I whispered a second before his lips pressed over mine, warm and tender and wonderful.
"I'm not going anywhere," he promised.
Behind us, children's laughter carried on the balmy evening air and we broke apart, turning to see a group of four or five children dart from the cover of a leafy fern and run away. A gentle breeze caught the fading sound of their high-pitched giggles and threw it back at us as they disappeared from view, probably heading for the waterfalls at the end of the dome.
I leaned over the water and cupped my hand, my laughter joining Mike's as I splashed him, then dove into the lagoon, glancing back to be sure he was following, grinning wildly when I saw that he was.
"Ari?"
His voice pulled me from my reverie and I blinked up at his warm green eyes, relaxed as I so rarely was these days. Maybe that's why I sat down on the edge of Ashley's bed when Mike suddenly, impulsively asked me to stay, to sit with him for a few minutes more. "You're already late getting home," he pointed out reasonably. "What could it hurt?"
What could it hurt? I didn't particularly want to give serious thought to the question. Still, I managed not to bolt when Mike lowered himself to sit facing me on the edge of Sienna's bed. Our knees were almost touching and I sucked in a lungful of air, hoping it would calm my nerves. It didn't, but I'm pretty sure it kept me from doing something embarrassing like blacking out.
I was hoping Mike wouldn't notice, but I'd forgotten just how deceptive his easy charm was. Deep down, Mike was anything but casual. He was paranoid and intense and his shrewd eyes missed nothing. Damn him. Those eyes narrowed on me now, but his voice was soft when he said, "I make you nervous, don't I?"
"Not really." He made me want to vomit but I was pretty sure it wasn't the same thing.
His fingers reached out and skimmed the back of my hand, subtly moving lower. My skin was pleasantly warm where his hand rested over my wrist. His fingers circled until he held my wrist securely, with his fingers pressing lightly over my skin. His hold tightened, and I could feel the force of my frantic pulse throbbing against his fingers. I jerked my hand away and held my arm as if I'd just been scalded.
There was no point in asking if he'd noticed the way my own heartbeat had just made a liar out of me and he didn't bother to say anything for several long, charged mom
ents. I glared at his bent head. When he did finally speak, his words were hushed and his eyes didn't waver from mine.
"Nothing to say?"
Oh, I had plenty to say. Most of it probably fell into the category of stuff he wouldn't want to hear, but he wasn't leaving me much choice. This made twice now in less than twenty-four hours that Mike Roberts had cornered me and arrogantly assumed I had nothing better to do than allow him to grace me with his presence. "What would you like to hear?" I demanded. "That I'm so glad you're here, I'm ready to burst from happiness?"
He leaned back and regarded me thoughtfully. "And are you?"
"No." I exhaled and studied him. "I wish you'd never come back at all."
"That's too bad." He shrugged.
"Obviously." My eyes narrowed. "You're already here."
"True. I'm here and I'm staying but that's not what I was referring to. I meant it's too bad you feel that way because most days I wish I'd never left this place."
"But you did leave," I stressed, beginning to wish he would just shut up. Sure, we probably had at least one or two things to legitimately discuss, but in my opinion, all except one could wait. "Are you going to take a look at the coatyl?" I asked, desperate to put the conversation-and us, really-back on an equal footing. I knew that after this morning's meeting, Mark and Bob had asked Mike to perform an autopsy on the creature and I had a hard time seeing Mike refuse the chance to explore something new and different.
Although, who knew if this was really his style. After all, there wasn't much a dead coatyl could do to harm him. It might not be exciting enough to garner his interest. Mike was one of those people-and why did they always seem to be men-who was literally a walking contradiction. For a man who took phrases like "safety conscious" and "cautious" to a whole new level of paranoid, he was usually, surprisingly, willing to rush headlong into the fray when adventure came calling.
Maybe he was only overprotective with his family and friends, but when it came to himself, all bets were off? It was hard to say; Mike wasn't an easy man to figure out. Sometimes, he burned with an intensity that made him seem invincible and overwhelming, and other times he was so indifferent that he simply turned and walked away. No, I corrected, not indifferent, exactly, but?distracted. Definitely distracted. Not that it mattered, not at this stage in the game, and these days I had other things to worry about besides the shattered remnants of my short-lived love life.
"Okay." Mike's shrewd eyes seemed to narrow infinitesimally on my face.
It was amazing how similar and all at once how different they were from his sister's. Claire's eyes were green but with a coffee color that added warmth and depth and expression. Mike's were dark and cool and a little bit murky, more like a moss-covered lagoon or the darkest part of the forest in midsummer. In a lot of ways, those eyes mirrored his personality.
"I get it," Mike was saying, fortunately making no move to touch me. "I finally did what I promised to do almost two years ago. I came back," he added dryly when I remained silent. "You aren't ready to forgive me, are you?"
"No," I answered in all honesty, but there was so much more to it than that. How could I explain to him, something I didn't fully understand myself? Not yet, anyway. You'd think knowing in advance that Mike would return to Terlain would have given me an edge in having this sort of thing figured out. Not so. If anything, I was even less certain than I had been three months ago.
Before that, I'd been sure I never wanted to set eyes on him again. And really, even then the more practical side of my nature had dictated the complete and utter hopelessness of a reunion with him. He wouldn't want me if he knew?what I'd been through. I was sure, deep down, if he ever found out the trouble I'd run into, Mike would see me as forever damaged. Without a sliver of doubt, I was certain to look into his eyes and see either pity or revulsion, and maybe both, in the deep green depths. I wasn't sure which would be worse.
Probably the pity, I decided, bracing both hands on the mattress and shoving off the bed, my moment of calm effectively shattered.
Mike rose to his feet and held his arm out to me. "Shall we rejoin the family?"
I shook my head and strode past him without touching the offered arm. "I really do need to get home."
"But it's dark," he protested.
"Yes," I replied with a shrug. "That usually happens around this time of day. I've walked in the dark, you know."
The simple statement seemed to shut him up, even if the welcome respite wouldn't last long. Judging by the set of his mouth as we made our way, side by side, down the curved staircase, he was occupied with thinking about exactly how many times I'd walked alone in the dark since he had been gone.
Claire waited with her mother at the foot of the stairs. Maybe it was my imagination, but Mrs. Roberts didn't look overly excited to see her only son descending the stairs with me at his side. A second later, the older woman faced me and took both of my hands in her much cooler ones to halt my progress into the room and I figured I must have imagined the quiet disapproval.
"Aries, I want to apologize for?earlier. My husband and I are still," the woman exhaled and shook her head, "I suppose the correct term is in shock. I hope we didn't seem awfully rude."
They had, but I didn't think it was polite to mention it. "You weren't at all rude," I reassured the older woman.
"Oh. Well." Tish shrugged, seemingly flustered. "I felt like we may have given you the wrong impression earlier."
"Really." I smiled and gave the cool hand around my own a brief squeeze before gently pulling free of her hold. "No harm done. I imagine this is somewhat of a trying time for your family."
"What an understatement." Tish Roberts heaved a tired sigh and smiled ruefully at me. "First to find out what sort of trouble two of our adult children were in." She paused and shot a look first at Mike, then Claire, before continuing. "Then to find out a place like?this, exists." Her eyes grew wide in her pale face and she shook her champagne blonde head, as though she were trying to make sense of it all over again.
"I can't imagine," I murmured sympathetically.
Mrs. Roberts nodded. "Let's just say it's a good thing Andrew and I have strong hearts."
"Yes, it is," Claire agreed with an indulgent smile. Mike winced and couldn't seem to hold his mother's gaze.
"So." Mrs. Roberts clapped her hands together. "Now that that's out of the way, who's ready for supper? Not that I feel much like eating at the moment, but the pot roast smells delicious."
"It will be." Claire steered her mother away from the stairs and toward the kitchen. "Marta is a fabulous cook. Besides, I have a feeling that if we don't want Megan to spend the rest of the night holed up in a bedroom, we need to provide a good example."
"Yes, I'm afraid you're right, dear." Tish's voice trembled a bit at the mention of her oldest daughter.
Their voices faded out the closer they got to the kitchen. I moved and bumped into Mike as he slipped into the space Tish had just vacated. True to character, he refused to move. I planted both hands, palms flat, between us on his chest, applied light pressure and fixed him with a glare I knew from experience would have sent a normal man running for the hills. But then, when had this man ever been accused of acting normal?
"Move." I resorted to glowering.
"Why?" he asked idly, staring down at me with infuriating ease. "Are you going to stab me again?"
I exhaled and counted to ten, a technique I'd seen Claire use often enough. "I wish you would forget about the damned knife."
"Not likely." He shook his tawny head. "What a welcome."
"It wasn't meant as a welcome," I ground out. Eleven, twelve, thirteen?
"You can't leave before supper," he pointed out in that why-won't-you-see-reason tone, still refusing to budge.
"I'm not hungry. And that's not your business, anyway."
Mike rested one arm on the railing and I quickly ducked beneath it, twisting around him and striding toward the front door. I
hoped he wouldn't follow, because right then I was sorely tempted to use the knife he refused to shut up about. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen?
"Aries, come on, be reasonable. It's dark out there. Aries, would you stop?" He reached out and grabbed a handful of the back of my shirt, holding fast when I would have rounded on him.
"Mike," I ground out, "I'm only going to tell you this once. Let. Me. Go."
"I'm sorry," he sighed. "But you know I can't do that. It's just too dangerous for you to walk home like this."
"So, you won't let me go?"
"No." His grip eased before I felt him stand up straighter at my back. He seemed to gather his will then because in the next instant his strong fingers had become vice-like once again. "Let's go and have dinner with the rest of the family and then you and I can sit down and discuss this. If you still want to leave, I'll take you back to the dome, where it's safe. Please be reasonable about this, Ari."
Words swirled through my mind like a fine red mist. Where it's safe. Be reasonable. What he really meant was sit down and be quiet. Like a good girl.
Like hell. I gripped his arm, braced one foot firmly on the floor, bent ever so slightly at the knee, and flipped Mike over my left shoulder.
He landed on the hardwood floor with a thud that seemed to vibrate and echo through the entire downstairs level of the house. I refused to feel embarrassed, even though I felt my face heat when a heartbeat later, Mike's entire family rushed into the front parlor to take in the scene.
Mike lay on the floor, looking slightly dazed, staring at me with what could only be called disbelief. Well, he'd asked for it. Behind us, his mother and one of his sisters gasped. Ashley and Sienna ran ahead of the adults who had clustered in and around the doorway, anxious to see what the commotion was and clearly not wanting to miss a moment of the action.
"Uncle Mike!" Ashley ran to his side and glanced from him to me and back again in question.
Claire pushed past the group and strode to where Mike lay and I stood and the children gawked. "Everybody go back to the kitchen."
Predictably, nobody moved. Mark looked mildly amused. Bob looked confused and Marta seemed almost?proud. With the exception of Claire, Mike's family was slightly less amused. His parents and Megan all wore expressions that varied from open speculation to dread to tight-lipped irritation. There was no way I was mistaking Mrs. Roberts' disapproval now. The warmth spread from my forehead and cheeks, down to my neck.
"Mike," Claire demanded, "what did you do?"
"I grabbed her." He grimaced and climbed to his feet without taking his gaze off me.
"Oh, Mike," she groaned.
"In my defense she was insisting on walking home in the dark while we've got those damn?things?running amok."
"They're called coatyl and Aries can handle herself. You shouldn't have grabbed her."
"I'm sorry." I interrupted Claire's defense of what I'd done, not that I didn't appreciate her coming to my rescue. Clearly, the majority of the suddenly crowded room didn't share that sentiment. "Maybe I shouldn't have flipped you like that, but I did ask you-nicely, I might add-to let go of me."
"That you did." Mike's lips twitched and he stretched where he stood. "That was a neat trick, by the way. I didn't even see it coming."
"It's not a trick." Claire frowned at her brother before I could form a reply. "Aries is a soldier. She's been trained to fight."
"I apologize for trying to restrain you," Mike finally told me.
"Apology accepted." I nodded and forced myself to look away from his penetrating scrutiny.
"Would you all mind giving us a moment?" Claire asked the family members-turned-curious-onlookers behind us.
"It's fine, Claire. I don't need any privacy." Mike shrugged and turned to his family. "In case you're all wondering, yes, I am involved with this woman," he declared, gesturing toward where I stood gaping in disbelief.
Was there no limit to how low he would stoop to try and force my hand? To make me acknowledge him in some way?
"We are not involved," I told his family.
"We used to be," Mike explained before turning to me. "We should be again."
"No, we shouldn't." I steadfastly refused to look at anyone else in the room right then except Claire and it was to her that I addressed my next statement. "Thank you for your offer of dinner, but I have several things to get done this evening."
"I understand." Claire's eyes radiated sympathy. Even Ashley and Sienna were now quietly accepting of my decision to leave right away, which probably meant I didn't just feel ready to crack, but looked it, too. Great. "Goodnight."
"I'll be over in the morning to help you clean up your house." Claire leaned forward and enveloped me in a quick, brief hug before stepping away and herding the children in the direction of the kitchen.
"Goodnight, Aunt Aries," they mumbled on their way out of the room.
"Goodnight," I murmured back. "It was, uh, nice to meet you all," I told his parents and Megan with as much dignity as I could muster.
Mike followed me to the door, looking like he was about to raise hell at any moment. Mark fell into step on the other side and opened the door for me. The sky beyond the front door and white-washed porch was jet black, but the moon was a huge bright orb high above and large stars peppered the world beyond the house. It was the stars that I chose to focus on as I crossed the threshold and planted my boots on the porch.
"Damn it," Mike swore. "Don't make me carry your ass back into that house. And don't think you're going to flip me again, because I'll be ready for it this time."
"Goodnight, Mike."
"Aries," Mark stepped around Mike's tense form and subtly put himself between us, "you're on patrol tomorrow?"
It took a few seconds for my scrambled brain to process this abrupt shift in the conversation. "Yes." I took a deep breath. "Lerna. The east border."
"Good. Can we beef up the patrol in the area?"
"Sure. You're expecting trouble?"
"No, nothing specific, but that zone's been too quiet lately. I don't like it."
"How many extra soldiers do you want?"
"At least two more on each post."
"Okay." I squinted through the porch light to meet his eyes and nodded. "Consider it done. Do you want me to run out that way tonight and station some extra men?"
"Not necessary." Mark smiled and turned to go back into the house. "It's already been taken care of tonight. Claire told you we leave for the coast in two days?"
"Yes. I'll be ready."
"How in the hell can you let her do shit like this?" Mike protested angrily, taking a step toward me. "She's going to get herself killed. What if another one of those coatyl catch her alone?" he demanded. "Huh? What then?"
I snorted and turned to go, but not before Mark paused, fixed Mike with an amused look and said, "Who did you think killed the first one?"
Before Mike could form the retort I knew was sure to be instantaneous and blistering, one of Mark's men broke through the tree line and made his way up the driveway. Mark quickly excused himself and went down the porch steps to meet the young man halfway.
Turning my back on Mike, I focused my complete attention on Mark and his murmured conversation with the blue-and-tan garbed soldier. Something was wrong. Despite the newly hushed, somber atmosphere, I had to step closer in order to hear the exchange between the two men.
"We're getting some intelligence about a possible threat, sir."
"I'm already aware of the coatyl organizing."
"No, sir." The man-boy, really-shook his head and took another step closer. "Not the coatyl. We've had reports of an underground facility, where things are?tested." The soldier frowned.
"Tested?" Mark stilled and threw a glance at me. I moved to stand fully beside him.
"What sort of testing? Weapons?" I asked, hesitant to voice the suggestion. As if we didn't have enough problems on our hands right now with mutant coatyl. Oh, no?
My eyes fle
w to Mark's and it was clear the chilling theory hit us at about the same moment. "The facility where the coatyl are being mutated?"
"Supposedly." The young man's head wobbled on his thin neck. "Some of Aranu's men captured a pair of guards outside of Belleview. Northern border, sir. The two spoke of an underground lab where Kahn organized genetic tests on, well, creatures," he wavered, clearly disturbed by the message he'd been sent to deliver.
"A lab full of coatyl. Hell," Mark swore, and I became aware of Mike inching closer to stand at Mark's other side.
"Yes, but the guards said there aren't coatyl there anymore. Those were all released during the last full moon. Something else was brought in to take their place."
At this, Mark, Mike, and myself exchanged uneasy glances. "Did they say what that something else is?"
"They called them life breathers. A band of creatures Kahn collected and altered in the facility."
"Creatures from Coztal?" Mark's brow furrowed.
I racked my brain for a few moments but couldn't recall ever having heard of, or come across, a creature called a life breather.
""No, sir. Northern creatures."
"Did the guards say anything else?"
"Only that the life breathers are worse than the coatyl."
Mike's eye's widened. I gasped. There was something worse than what Kahn and his men had done to the coatyl?
"What did they do to the creatures?" Mark asked, stone-faced now.
"They didn't say. But seven days past, Kahn ordered the creatures released and the facility shut down."
"What about the scientists who worked in the lab? Where are they?"
"Dead, sir."
"I see." Mark snapped his palm against his thigh and turned toward the car, motioning for me to follow. "Take us to Aranu. I want to speak with the two guards."
The boy paused, swallowed audibly. "I can't do that, sir."
Mark paused and raised one eyebrow.
"Both guards are dead, sir."
"I see," Mark responded after a long, terse silence.
My own lips tightened into a grim line and privately I cursed Aranu's brash move even if it didn't really shock me. Hadn't he realized we would need to interview the pair? If they had that much inside information-info we badly needed-hell. I shook my head. We could have forced them to reveal the lab's location. But now?well, there was no sense dwelling on what might have been. I sighed and turned to catch Mike watching me.
"I have to go," I muttered, shouldering my way past Mark and hurrying down the driveway.
"If you see Aranu," Mark called after me, "tell him I want to talk to him."
"Will do." I turned and nodded before spinning around and continuing on across the yard and into the forest, knowing I wouldn't say anything to Aranu about what he'd done. Knowing that it wouldn't do any good.