It was the streets. They didn’t exist at the capital because citizens shuttled from place to place or took the air train. But now that Cara looked around, she noticed the absence of landing pads, too.
“Wait,” she said. “Where will our shuttles land? And why are there streets here?”
Jaxen and Aisly shared the briefest of glances, just long enough for Cara to get the impression they were hiding something.
Recovering quickly, Jaxen offered a placating smile. “In keeping with human customs, we’ve begun the manufacture of small motorized vehicles for your use on the colony.”
“Cars?” Cara asked.
“Powered by the sun,” Aisly added. “Like everything else here, so you won’t need to worry about fuel dependency.”
Cara noticed they didn’t answer her first question. “Where will we keep our shuttles?”
After a moment of hesitation, Jaxen admitted, “You won’t have them.”
“At all?”
“No.”
Paradise lost another point. No, make that a dozen points. Because without shuttles, the colonists were trapped here—powerless, isolated, and utterly dependent on the continent to travel any farther than the beach.
Paradise morphed into prison.
Troy clearly understood her concern. He didn’t say anything, but he whistled the theme to The Twilight Zone and used his index finger to make twirling motions toward his head.
“What if there’s an emergency?” Cara asked.
Jaxen didn’t miss a beat. “You’ll have com-spheres.”
“But a com-sphere won’t fly me off this island.”
Drawing a deep breath, Jaxen brought both his hands together as if in prayer. “Listen, Cah-ra. I give you my word: The Way means you no harm. But you have to admit that human colonists have a history of rising up against their founding nations. This is more to protect our society than anything else.”
Cara didn’t buy it. What did he think the colonists were going to do, wage war with a few shuttles and a handful of alien coconuts? No, this was a deal breaker. Human beings weren’t wayward children who needed to be managed. She wouldn’t live inside a cage, even if it did resemble one of those fancy resorts her family could never afford to visit.
“Then I’ll have to reconsider my decision to stay here,” Cara said, opening the door for negotiation. “This is a sticking point for me. Can’t you spare a few—”
An earsplitting shriek interrupted her and tore everyone’s attention skyward, where a ball of fire streaked into the atmosphere. Cara recognized it at once—it was identical to the “meteorite” that had crashed her Sh’ovah. This time she narrowed her eyes and focused on the sphere, checking for any detail that might give her a clue to its origin. But all she could discern was flame. It picked up speed and barreled into the ocean with a mighty splash, making her wonder how many other spheres had crashed in these waters. She didn’t care what The Way said; that thing was man-made. The repeat appearance confirmed it.
Troy verbalized what she was thinking. “Was that a satellite? I’ve heard of small ones falling out of orbit.”
Jaxen and Aisly exchanged another loaded glance.
“No,” Aisly said. She strode to Troy’s side and smiled up at him. Staring deeply into his eyes, she crooned, “It was only lightning. There’s a storm coming, don’t you think?”
While Cara scrunched her brows in confusion, Troy’s face went all dopey and he nodded in agreement. “Yeah,” he said, turning his gaze to the cloudless sky. “We should head back to the shuttle before it rains.”
What had just happened?
Jaxen turned to Cara and cupped her cheek in his palm. When she tried backing away, he took her face between both hands and peered at her, softening his focus as if to use Silent Speech.
Oh, God. She had a feeling she’d just discovered the siblings’ hidden talent.
Cara didn’t know if it would work, but she blocked her thoughts the way Elle had taught her during one of their practice sessions. She cleared her mind of everything but her default safe image, which happened to be a red kickball. While Jaxen tried connecting with her consciousness, Cara summoned that ball, envisioning its textured surface, its rubbery scent, the springy feel of it beneath her fingers.
“Cah-ra,” Jaxen said, low and smooth as melted chocolate. “You don’t need to worry. You’ll find happiness here.”
Red ball. She focused with all her might. Bouncy red ball.
Jaxen’s breath stirred against her lips, and for a moment, she feared he might kiss her. But he released her face and stepped back, studying her with a confident grin.
He thinks it worked. Cara decided not to give him any reason to doubt it. She faked a dazed expression to match her brother’s, then lied her ass off.
“I’m not worried.”
Chapter Eleven
“Impossible,” Aelyx said. “Mind control only exists in legends. There has to be a logical explanation.” He hadn’t spent much time with Cara’s brother, but Troy struck him as the less intelligent of the two—by leaps and bounds. “Perhaps Troy really thought a storm was coming.”
Elle dipped her head into view from the top bunk. “That’s what I said.”
“Well, you’re both wrong.” Cara’s eyes narrowed, sending Elle darting out of view. “Troy’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he’s smart enough to know when it’s raining. You weren’t there—I was. And I’m telling you that Aisly used a Jedi mind trick on my brother, and Jaxen tried the same thing with me. You can choose to believe it or not, but that’s what happened. And I’ll tell you another thing—I think The Way knows what they can do, and that’s why they keep them around.”
“I don’t see how it’s scientifically feasible,” Aelyx said.
“Neither do I,” Cara conceded. “But I don’t know how shuttles fly or how transports jump through wormholes, and those things happen. Until I met L’eihrs, I thought telepathy was impossible. If you can communicate with your minds, it’s not that big a stretch to assume you can do other stuff with your minds, too.”
Aelyx supposed she had a point, but he still didn’t believe it. “Does Troy remember anything helpful?”
Cara poked the top bunk to get Elle’s attention. “Tell him what Troy said when we got home last night.”
“I asked where they’d been all day,” Elle said. “Troy told me they’d flown to the colony, but they’d cut short the trip because of rain. He did appear a bit stunned, but he always looks that way when I undress for bed.”
Cara leaned forward, her voice urgent. “But it never rained yesterday—not one drop. Explain that.”
Troy probably needed his head examined, but Aelyx didn’t say so. “Where is he now?”
“In the washroom.”
“Has he shown any odd behavior since then? Experienced hallucinations or—”
“No, he’s fine,” Cara said. “And Jaxen’s pretending that nothing happened, like he never grabbed my face and tried to brain-rape me.”
Aelyx didn’t know what to say. None of it made sense.
Cara pinched her finger and thumb together. “He came this close to kissing me, too.”
“What?” Aelyx’s vision went spotty, and he damned near fell off the bed. “Why didn’t you say that to begin with?”
“Oh, sure,” Cara said. “I tell you Jaxen can brainwash people and you don’t care. But I mention an almost-kiss and that’s what gets your attention?”
Precisely. Aelyx doubted Jaxen’s alleged mental powers, but he had no trouble believing the son of a motherless f’exa would try to seduce Cara. Aelyx wanted her by his side, far away from Jaxen’s influence. “Maybe you should come home with your brother.”
“And risk the alliance?” she said, reminding him of what was at stake. “Being here is one of the conditions, remember? I can’t come back until spring.” She chewed her bottom lip and fell silent awhile. When she spoke again, she kept her gaze fixed on her blanket. “Listen, what do you th
ink about…maybe…”
“Maybe what?” he prompted.
“Defecting from L’eihr and living on Earth after the alliance is sealed.” She peeked through her lashes. “The colony isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I know Earth isn’t your favorite place right now, but you might grow to like it someday. Right?”
Aelyx tried not to betray the chill that gripped his stomach. If Cara refused to remain on the colony, they couldn’t be together. He supposed he could eke out a life on Earth, but humans would have to stop trying to murder him first. As much as they enjoyed killing one another, he imagined his odds weren’t very good. And breaking his vow to The Way would mean severing ties to his heritage. He’d never be permitted to return to L’eihr, not even to visit. He loved Cara, but he loved his people, too.
“It’s not that simple,” he said. “Can’t you…” What? Try harder? Lower your expectations? He didn’t know what to ask of her, or even if he had any right to.
She shook her head blankly, probably struggling to make similar requests of him. “They want to trap us there. We won’t be free to come and go as we please.”
“But you’re not free to come and go now,” he told her. “You can’t take a shuttle and fly it to the spaceport, then simply walk aboard an Earth-bound ship. You have to apply for passage and wait for approval. The colony will be no different.”
“You don’t understand.”
Elle’s head appeared again, upside down, from the top bunk. “You don’t know what you’re asking of him,” she said to Cara. “I can’t believe you’re willing to quit so easily. The Cah-ra Sweeney I’ve come to admire wouldn’t give up without a fight.”
In an act of surrender, Cara turned up her palms. “What am I supposed to do? Jaxen’s part of The Way. He’s like everyone’s boss—times ten. You should’ve seen how he snapped his fingers and suddenly I was off the hook for that poisoning incident. Nobody questions him.”
“But even he has a superior,” Elle said. “Why not appeal to Alona?”
“Wait.” Cara raised one orange brow. “I can do that?”
“Of course you can,” Aelyx told her. “It’s your right as a citizen.”
She speared him with a glare. “It’s not like they gave me a handbook at my Sh’ovah, you know.”
Despite the tension, Aelyx found himself smiling. Gods, he loved this girl—her humor and passion, her temper and heart. She filled empty spaces inside him he’d never known were vacant. He simply couldn’t lose her. With one finger, he reached out to trace the curve of her face. “Please keep fighting.”
She nodded but didn’t meet his gaze. “I’ll try.”
Aelyx left her with an extra-firm “I love you” and disconnected to dress for the day. He didn’t like the dejection in Cara’s voice, but he hoped the gift he’d sent would cheer her up. He tucked his com-sphere inside his back pocket before striding into the living room.
Ordinarily, now was the time he’d peel off his clothes and climb into bed, but Aelyx had special plans this evening. At his urging, the military had facilitated a meeting between him and the HALO leader, Isaac Richards—a heavily guarded meeting set in a public location, per Isaac’s paranoid request. Stepha had refused to attend and “acknowledge that cretin’s existence,” but Aelyx didn’t mind going alone. He’d finally secured permission to share the truth about Earth’s water crisis with Isaac. Once the lead Patriot understood the gravity of terminating the alliance, surely he’d cease the assassination attempts he continued to deny.
Or at least that’s what Aelyx hoped.
“Time to suit up,” David said, holding forward a Kevlar vest. He seemed ready to go in his camouflage jacket and matching hat, semiautomatic weapon slung across his shoulder. Maybe it was nothing, but David seemed more tired than usual, with dark circles shadowing his eyes. “Colonel Rutter’s not taking any chances with your precious alien hide.”
“What about you?” Syrine demanded from her spot on the sofa. “Are you wearing one?”
David pounded one fist against his chest, giving a hollow thunk. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good,” she snapped, as if irate with herself for caring. Which was probably the case. “It won’t protect against a head wound, though.” And with that, she snatched a magazine from the coffee table and pretended to read it. Aelyx decided not to tell her it was upside down in her grasp. More fun to let her discover that on her own.
While Aelyx shrugged out of his sweater and donned the bulletproof vest, David took a seat on the sofa’s armrest. “I don’t know,” David said, leaning down to read over Syrine’s shoulder. “My mom used to say my head was hard enough to stop a bullet.”
A disdainful sniff was her only reply.
“But I think stubbornness is kind of hot.” When David plucked the magazine from Syrine’s hands and turned it right side up for her, Aelyx’s chest shook with silent laughter. “Don’t you?” the boy murmured near Syrine’s ear.
In a flash, she threw down the copy of People and retreated to her bedroom. The slamming of her door soon followed.
Aelyx chuckled while fastening the Velcro straps at his sides. “What was it you said the other day?” He tipped his head aside, pretending to think. “Soon she’ll be wrapped around my pinkie finger? You sure about that? Because it looks like she’d rather wrap her hands around your throat.”
David frowned at Syrine’s door. “She’s going to be a tough nut to crack.”
Not really. David didn’t know it, but Syrine was already cracking. Aelyx had felt her conflict deepening through Silent Speech, even when she’d tried to block it. Her attraction to their bodyguard had grown each day, along with disdain for her weakness. She’d spent more and more time sequestered in her bedroom practicing K’imsha, but all the meditation in the world wouldn’t harden her heart against the human.
Aelyx pulled on his sweater and grabbed his wool overcoat. “Just unleash that irresistible charm you’re always bragging about.”
“I did. Turns out she’s immune to it.”
They walked into the hall, where half the guard unit waited to escort Aelyx to his meeting. Together, the entire group made their way down two flights of stairs and then filed into the armored vehicle idling at the curb. Once he and David settled into their customary seats in the back row, it occurred to Aelyx that for the first time, he could offer his mentor some romantic advice.
“It’s not you she hates,” Aelyx whispered. “It’s mankind in general. I think your strongest chance of winning her over is to show that you’re different.”
“Stop acting human?”
“Basically, yes.” At his friend’s sigh of exasperation, Aelyx explained one of the reasons behind Syrine’s prejudice. “Her host student relentlessly pursued her during the exchange. He cornered her in the hall, groped her legs under the dinner table—even hid a camera in her bedroom. So when you compliment her beauty or engage in typical human mating rituals, you’re—”
“Coming on too strong,” David finished. “And reminding her of that doucher.”
“Exactly.”
“Huh.” A hopeful grin pushed up the corners of David’s mouth. “I just need to tone it down a little.”
“And show that you’re different,” Aelyx repeated. Syrine’s feelings had first sparked alive when David put his life at risk to save her from the letter bomb. She’d never before considered humans capable of self-sacrifice, and he had proven her wrong. “That’s the most important part.”
David nodded thoughtfully. “I can do different.”
After that, David chewed the inside of his cheek and fell into an introspective trance, so Aelyx turned his gaze out the window to watch the miles pass in a dark blur of frosted brick and salted asphalt.
They left the city and traveled into the suburbs, eventually stopping at the entrance to a defunct strip mall with only one functioning business—an Italian bistro at the far end. The National Guard had secured the parking lot in the form of barricades and armed patrols at the p
eriphery. When the driver of their Hum-V rolled down his window and presented his identification, two soldiers dragged aside the plastic barrels blocking the way, allowing them to pass.
Colonel Rutter met Aelyx as soon as he stepped onto the sidewalk. “We paid the owner to close down the place,” the colonel explained while directing Aelyx toward the bistro. “We’ve swept the inside, and it’s cleaner than a preacher’s pickle.”
David snickered from nearby but went instantly stoic when the colonel’s gaze landed on him.
“Due to the…uh…” Rutter began, still watching David, “sensitive nature of your discussion with Richards tonight, I’ll be inside with you, and Private Sharpe will help patrol the perimeter.” He dismissed David, who saluted his superior and jogged away to join the guards stationed at the parking lot entrance.
“Did you bring the equipment I requested?” Aelyx asked.
Rutter lifted a small duffel bag. “Got it right here.”
“Is Richards already inside?”
“Yep,” the colonel said. “He’s clean. Searched him myself.” With a devilish smirk, he added, “Extra thoroughly.”
Aelyx didn’t really want to know what that entailed, but he hoped it involved a painful body cavity examination. Nobody deserved it more than Isaac Richards.
A comforting burst of dry, warm air greeted them in the restaurant, followed closely by the tangy scent of marinara sauce. Aelyx removed his coat, glancing around the dining room to survey his surroundings. A polished oak bar claimed the side wall, and behind it stood twenty or so round, linen-draped tables, each adorned with a repurposed wine bottle holding a tapered candle. But only one candle flickered with light, casting shadows over the folded hands of the man seated behind it.
Isaac stood when he noticed Aelyx, and he nodded his brunet head in a greeting. Aelyx studied his foe while striding toward him. In his tweed jacket and khaki pants, bifocals teetering on the tip of his nose, Richards looked more like a university professor than the commander of a xenophobic civilian army. The man didn’t offer his hand to shake, but that was all right. Aelyx didn’t want to touch him anyway.
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