Stripping off their masks and black, sealskin headgear, they each reveal short, platinum-colored hair. They’re Alameeda. Spitting out breathing devices, they leave them on the beach. One digs weapons out of a waterproof bag and hands them out to the others.
Without a sound, they spread out over the beach. They’re hunting. I move with them, a gazelle following lions. Soundlessly, they surround Kyon’s main house. Just as one almost makes it to our bedroom doorway, a squelch tracker emerges from it. It locks onto him, and a long spike projection ejects from its silver body. The metallic assassin device jets forward. A high-pitched scream comes from it as it impales the wetsuited soldier in the abdomen. He screams too, but it doesn’t sound like a seal’s wail when lasers flail out of the squelch tracker and cut him to ribbons.
An explosion on the far side of the house indicates that another soldier has found a trap set by Kyon. Two more squelch trackers find the Alameeda soldiers, reducing them to piles of flesh and bone.
Kyon silently emerges from beneath the white sand. He cuts the throats of two soldiers before they can even set foot on the stone patio. Kyon moves off the beach. He’s near our bedroom when a projectile tears through his side. Swinging around, he fires his automatic freston at the Alameeda soldier who shot him. They both unload hollow-pointed ammunition into each other. The enemy soldier falls to the sand without half of his face, but Kyon is a bloody mess too. He drops to his knees. His nostrils flare as he tries to gulp in air. Holding his hand to his side, he looks down at his abdomen and finds a large chunk of it missing. Unable to walk now, he crawls to the door of our bedroom.
Screams of pain come from inside—my screams. The pale moons shine on the bed where I’m fighting and clawing to get away from a soldier who is holding me down. At the same time, I kick my legs and struggle against another vicious soldier as he cuts my clothes from me. “The Brotherhood sends its love,” the one with the knife snarls. Kyon lifts his freston and shoots the soldier in the head. The soldier’s brains explode all over the bed. Before the other soldier can react, Kyon is able to get off a few more shots, killing the one holding me down.
Kyon collapses onto the ground. I see my future self sit up on the bed and crawl onto the floor to Kyon’s side. Placing a hand over his wounds, the future me tries to stem his bleeding, but it’s futile. Kyon’s injuries are far too serious.
More soldiers enter the room. They don’t attempt to take me hostage. Two shots ring out: One tears through my heart, and the other goes through my head. My corpse falls next to Kyon’s on the floor.
What happens next is chilling. One of the soldiers kneels down next to my body. He injects a tube into my vein and extracts my blood. While he does that, another soldier slices open my abdomen and extracts my ovaries from my corpse. Horrified, I can’t stay any longer. I escape from the house through the starlit rush of time.
CHAPTER 6
HAUNTING IDLE
Pain greets me as I fall into my body, reclaiming it. My back arches as I grasp my chest where I’m shot. I gulp in frantic breaths of air, trying to alleviate the pain in my aching heart. The tightness in my chest is strange, though. My fingers search for the massive, gaping wound, but I find nothing wrong with me. In a few more breaths, the pain eases and begins to fade away.
Kyon’s eyes are a soft blue as I look up at him. My head is on his lap. His hand is gentle as he strokes my hair in a slow, rhythmic way. My teeth chatter, not just from the pain and fear I just experienced, but also because I’m so cold. My whole body quakes.
“Easy,” he murmurs. “Breathe slowly.”
We’re still in the boathouse. Water laps against the support beams below us, making soft sounds.
“They’re—” I wheeze “—coming!” I take a few more straining breaths. “Soldiers—”
“Shh, I need to get you warm. You’re freezing.” He gently lifts my head from his lap and rests it on the wooden floor. He lies next to me, takes me in his arms, and holds me against his chest to share his body heat. My cheek rests against his shoulder as he rubs my arm, dispelling some of the goose bumps. It takes a few minutes for my breathing to slow and my teeth to stop chattering.
Kyon’s lips brush my hair before he murmurs, “When do they come?”
Fear is the unmistakable quality in my shaky voice when I whisper, “Tonight.” I try to sit up, but Kyon tightens his arms, not allowing me to move.
“How many?” he asks in a calm tone.
“At least a hundred—maybe more—”
“How do they come?”
“What?” I close my eyes, feeling his hand gently rub my back. It eases some of my anxiety.
“How do they gain access to the island? Is it an air strike?”
“No,” I shake my head. “They come by water—they swim to shore—that’s how they get in undetected.”
“On what part of the island do they stage their arrival?” he asks.
“The beach in front of your cottages.”
“Is that their only access point?” I think for a moment, and then I nod my head. Kyon pulls me closer to him, resting his chin on my head. “Good girl,” he whispers.
“You don’t get it!” I try to pull away from him. He lets me go enough so that I can look into his eyes. “We have to leave! They’re going to kill us!”
His eyes soften. There’s no fear in them whatsoever. “No, they’re not—”
I clutch his arm, trying to make him understand. “Yes! They are! They’re coming and you can’t stop them all—”
“They can’t do anything to us now, Kricket, because you’re going to tell me everything you know that will happen and I’m going to take care of the rest.”
Panic overwhelms me. He still doesn’t get it! “There are too many of them! They’re sent by the Brotherhood—by Excelsior!”
“I know. You scare them.”
“I scare them?” I laugh humorlessly.
My incredulous response is met by unflagging stoicism. “More than anything in this world,” he replies.
“Why haven’t you handed me over to him?”
His expression turns angry. What I just said to him is something he finds completely offensive. “I told you—you’re mine.”
I shiver. “They want me dead.”
“They want to kill anything they can’t control.”
“Well, they’re gonna do it tonight,” I promise as I look up at the exposed beams of the boathouse ceiling. The water makes diamond patterns on the wood. Normally it’s hypnotic and beautiful, but now I find no pleasure in it.
Kyon’s hand reaches over and cups my cheek. Turning my face toward his again, he says, “If we’re to die tonight, then I want one last kiss.”
Before I can react, he covers my lips with his own. It’s not a last kiss—there’s no desperation in it. Instead, his body grows closer to mine, as if magnetically pulled to me. As his lips move over mine, my skin erupts with fresh goose bumps. I want to fight him, but there’s something in his kiss that I desperately need at the moment—an assurance that we’ll live. My traitorous body reacts to his, to the safety he offers in this moment. The moment passes, though, and I wrench my lips away from his. My heart pounds hard against the cage of my chest. His breathing is heavy against my neck.
“We’re going to live, aren’t we?” I ask with a shaky voice, touching my fingers to my swollen lips, which still feel his against them.
He smiles against my skin. “That I can promise you,” he says softly, “at least for tonight.” He lifts his head to look at me. His blue eyes make me think he can see inside my soul. He lets go of me and gets up from the boathouse floor, then extends his hand. “I need you to show me exactly where they come ashore.”
I grasp his hand and he helps me to my feet. I feel dizzy. He holds me close, but I push away from him. “I’m fine now,” I grumble. I feel awkward. I just want to put some space between us.
“You need me, Kricket.” He reaches for my hand again.
I snatch it back f
rom him. “No, I don’t.”
He frowns, but he doesn’t try to take my hand again. Instead, he gestures toward the door. I precede him to it. Outside in the sunlight, everything feels more unreal. How can anything be wrong in this place—this tropical paradise?
“It’s this way to the beach cottages.” He walks along a small, sandy path through the palm trees. I follow him, and he slows until we walk beside each other on the path. I wrap my arms around myself in a protective way. My thoughts are consumed with the imminent attack. When we reach the other side of the island, I show him the precise point where the soldiers will make it onto the beach. We discuss the type of weaponry they’ll possess. I tell him about the squelch trackers.
Kyon listens to every detail, making me go over things several times. Then he says, “I’ll set more squelch trackers to accommodate their numbers.”
“I hate squelch trackers,” I mutter, remembering the one that almost killed me.
“None of the squelch trackers I’ll set will hunt you, Kricket. If one comes across you here, it will ignore you. They’re programmed for specific targets. They’ll be unable to hurt you.”
“One was set for me at the palace.”
“Two were set for you at the palace. I found and destroyed the second one.”
“Who set them?”
“I suspect it was Em Nark,” he replies honestly.
I remember him. I called him “the Narc.” He hated me. He was the pudgy-faced ambassador from Alameeda who tried to negotiate my release from Manus’s custody on behalf of the Alameeda Brotherhood.
“Did you kill him? His trift blew up before he left Rafe territory.”
Kyon shakes his head. “I planned to.” He smiles wickedly. “He would’ve been dead the moment he landed at his estate in Alameeda. I had my people on it, but he never made it there.”
“Then who killed him?”
“Manus,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Manus? Why?” I wonder.
“He didn’t want Em Nark relaying to anyone your specific gift as a soothsayer—a diviner of truth. If others knew you could tell when they were lying, it would make your gift somewhat moot. They would simply refuse to speak in your presence. Manus killed Em Nark so your secret would remain intact. It made your gift valuable. We had a conversation about it—the Regent and I. We both agreed that it was in our best interests that the Brothers knew nothing about it.”
“You spoke to Manus about me?” The information makes my heart lurch in my throat for some reason.
“I spent every single rotation that you were a captive in Rafe trying to negotiate your release from Manus’s custody. That is, until he arrested me and nearly executed me. But, we both know how that turned out for him. Manus was not nearly strong enough to protect you from the Brotherhood.”
“And you are?”
“I’m your only hope. You realize that the Brotherhood is trying to kill you during your claiming? They’re required to respect this time between us as part of the contract that I made with them.”
“My claiming? What are you talking about?”
“It’s the time we are to spend together after a commitment is made,” he struggles to explain, looking at me like I should know what he’s talking about.
I think for a second, my nose wrinkles like I just smelled something bad. “You don’t mean honeymoon, do you?” I look sidelong at him while I frown. That thought is unsettling.
“Honeymoon?” he says the word like he has no idea what it means. “We’re supposed to spend time together—alone—in order to get to know each other as a couple.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “We’re not a couple.”
He frowns. “We are a couple.”
“I don’t want to be claimed.”
“You have no say in the matter.”
He’s primed for a fight. He looks very muscly all of a sudden. I ignore his insanity for a moment, because we can fight about that later if we live. Instead, I ask, “So the Brotherhood didn’t approve of this?” I move my pointed finger back and forth between us.
He frowns. “The Brotherhood promised you to me. We have a contract. They want to void the contract. They always secretly planned to rescind it.”
“Aren’t you part of the Brotherhood?”
“I am,” he says, nodding.
“Then don’t you have a say it what happens?”
“I have a vote. I have some influence, but I can’t always control what they do. They’re a vicious, snarling group of politicians who’ll smile to your face while they’re plotting your death.”
“Super. Nice club you’re in. Why don’t they want you to claim me?”
“Together you and I are exceptionally powerful. They knew I was their best chance of finding and killing you if I was unable to secure you for Alameeda. If you remain with me, they can’t control you.”
“And you knew all of this beforehand?”
“Of course.”
“All their little plots and schemes are going awry. How do you think they feel about that?”
“I’m sure it’s all rather upsetting for them. One might say they feel murderous.”
I blink. Did he just make a joke? I can’t tell. He’s so straight-faced. I rub my forehead. I don’t feel well. It’s as if I died earlier today and have been resurrected. “Okay.” I look around me for a way to help. “So what should I do? Dig holes for land mines? Carve stakes out of bamboo? Make coconut-shell bombs? What?” I’m only half kidding. I don’t want to die tonight, especially not in the way they have planned for me. I’d also like to keep all of my organs, so I’d rather turn this around on them, if I can. “Or we could just leave. We could hide you know—somewhere they’ll never find us. Do you know how to get to Chicago? Because if we could get there, I could hide us—”
Kyon gathers me up in his arms and kisses me hard on the mouth. I push against his chest, but he’s caveman strong. He lets me go on his own. “You’re so adorable sometimes. I almost don’t regret not killing you.”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “You’re insane. You know that, right?”
“I am the sanest person you know,” he says honestly.
“Or the most delusional. I’m leaning toward the latter.” I sigh. “What do you want me to do to help?”
“Here, I’ll show you.” He puts his arm around my shoulder and leads me to the cottage just off the beach. It’s only small by the standards of the bigger house on the island. Made of teak, it looks like a bunch of huts connected by brown, wooden bridges with polished driftwood railings. Thatched roofs blow and rustle in the sea breeze, making the same sound as the palm trees on the shore.
We climb the wooden steps and come to a deck. It’s lined with legless, hovering chaise lounges for lying in the sun. Plump cream-colored mats cover the hovering chairs. Up a few more stairs and we face a series of interconnected teak structures. To our left is a thatched-roof gazebo with a hammock strung from its wooden pillars. A deck connects it to the structure directly in front of us. It’s also made of teak with thatched roofs, wooden floors, and open-wall archways. Under the shelter of a peaked roof, a few elegant, moss-green-covered chairs cluster around the rustic hearth and driftwood mantel. A small bar and commissary are behind the sitting area. Beyond the bar, there are two rooms: One appears to be a bathroom—or, as they call it, a lavare, because it has a glass shower that opens on one side with a view of the sea. The other room is a lovely bedroom with a dreamy froth of white netting over it and an open wall to access a wooden bridge that leads to more thatched-hut structures behind this one.
We enter the hut straight ahead of us through an open wall that has lush green potted palms on either side of it. “Would you like some water?” Kyon asks. I nod to him. He passes the sitting area and goes to the bar. I follow him and lean against the sandstone countertop while he rounds it to the other side. “Oscil, two glasses of water.”
From the center of the sandstone, a hole opens up in the counter, and
beautiful goblets of water emerge from beneath its surface. Reaching for a glass, I take a sip of it as Kyon says, “Oscil, prepare the cottages for setting three.”
“There is no inclement weather detected in this area. The likelihood of a hurricane making landfall here is point zero zero zero zero—”
“Override hurricane probability. Secure the cottages to setting three. Access to emergency settings restricted to Kyon Ensin.”
The gazebo to our left changes. Glass-panel walls emerge from the wood floor, blocking access to the hammock within. Once the transparent barriers are in place, metal hurricane shutters roll down over the glass.
I glance at Kyon for a moment as he drinks his water and watches me. I look away and see most of the open walls to this teak structure begin to close, leaving all but one wall to the outside open—it’s the way we came in. The outside walls of the bedroom close off access to the bridge that connects it to the other teak huts as glass partitions emerge from the floor. Steel shutters come down over the glass in this area too, darkening the room. The same thing happens in the lavare—it’s shrouded in darkness within seconds by hurricane shutters.
“What are we going to do here?” I ask as I turn toward Kyon again in confusion and find him gone. Looking around, I see him nearing the only exit left open to the cottage.
“You’re going to wait here. You’ll be safe,” Kyon says as he leaves. I hurry toward the exit too, but a glass panel comes up from the floor between us, blocking my way out.
“No, no, no, no, no!” I whine as I put my hands on the glass and try to stop it from closing completely. It’s no good; I’m not strong enough. The hurricane shutters begin to come down over the outside of the transparent wall. I bang on the glass. “Kyon!” I yell at him, as he smiles at me from the other side.
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