by Izzy Shows
The smell of her.
Even through my mask, with my enhanced senses, I could smell the way her body had reacted to mine. The surge of arousal, her feminine scent heavy in the air, calling to me like a siren song. I'd been powerless not to respond to it, not a single thought in mind—until she pushed me away.
No, can't think about that. It damn sure doesn't change anything, either. Alien tail's nice and all, but I’m not here for that kind of thing.
I shook the thought away and snapped my eyes open to watch her. She was walking ahead of me, her hips swaying with every step she took. She walked gracefully through the broken temple, clearly keeping a sharp eye on where she was going now.
She didn't want to end up falling, pressed against me again. I could tell.
The realization brought a crooked smile to my lips. You don't make such a big deal out of avoiding something if it doesn’t affect you, and though the facts were on my side, I still appreciated having them reaffirmed. It made me feel a bit better to know she was as aware of the affect as I was.
It didn't matter, though. It wasn't important in the slightest—like I said, I wasn't here for any of that nonsense.
I wanted her for the answers she could provide, for the possibility that she might be able to help me find…
A reason to keep on living.
I winced at the thought, at the stark truth in it, but I couldn't avoid it any longer. I'd been suicidal for quite some time now, and ever since I'd landed on this planet, my thoughts had been geared much more towards finding those answers than caring about what happened to me. I didn't want to let go of that—I wanted those answers, but I wanted them to tell me there was something to live for.
So, yeah. That was what I wanted her for, not for her body.
And certainly not for her heart or her mind.
She could keep all of that to herself, as far as I was concerned.
Then why do you keep thinking about it?
I growled, a harsh sound in the empty temple, and shoved the thought to the side.
Startled, she looked over her shoulder at me and said something quickly in her language, her inflection going up at the end.
Asking me if everything was all right? That was the impression I got, anyway.
I shook my head and gestured for her to keep going. She shrugged and turned away again, and I let out a sigh of relief.
The last thing I needed was for her to figure out what was going on in my head. She didn't need to know why I needed her. It would give her too much power in our relationship, and I couldn't have that.
I followed her through the temple, keeping an eye on her to make sure she didn't trip again.
It's because of my orders to stick to her like glue, of course. That's why I'm following her, not because I care.
At last, we came into an actual room. We were no longer walking up flights of stairs or through dark corridors. It looked something like a library.
A sharp cry broke through my thoughts before I could get a better look at the room. I turned to Xiva and saw that she'd fallen to her knees, her skin pulsing violently.
Little, heartbreaking, keening cries were coming from her. The sound of a woman destroyed.
It was then that I realized what had brought about that reaction from her—the room was full of skeletons.
Her people.
Without thinking, I rushed to her. It was instinct that brought me to my knees beside her, that had me wrapping my arms around her and bringing her tight against my body.
Instinct, not emotion.
As soon as I was there, with my arms surrounding her as if to keep her safe from some threat—but there was no keeping her safe from the damage done to her heart—I realized she was just going to push me away.
I started to ease away, and I was surprised when she curled into my arms, hiding her face against my chest. She wrapped an arm around my waist, and her other hand fisted my shirt, holding tight as if for dear life.
Those same soft, keening cries kept coming from her, and she was talking in her language.
I caught the rhythm of it; she was saying the same thing over and over, like a broken record. I didn't know what it was, but I didn't need to know. It was the language of the heartbroken, and it spoke to my soul.
These were her people. This kind of sight would break anyone. The strongest soldier wouldn't be unmoved to find his people decimated like this.
How old is she? These skeletons are completely desiccated.
I pushed the thought aside as soon as it intruded in my mind. It didn't matter; I could think about that later.
All that mattered was that she was hurting, and no one should have to see the people they loved like this.
So, I kept my arms tight around her, one hand stroking her soft hair as I made small noises that I only hoped would come across as comforting.
"It's OK, baby," I whispered. "It's going to be OK. I'm sorry, so sorry that you had to see this."
She shuddered in my arms, shaking her head and holding tighter to me.
I didn't let go of her. I wouldn't, even if a goddamn army had come storming through the doors.
Xiva
They were all dead. Every single one of them. Dead. All the initiates, the priests and priestesses—they were all gone. Zvarr killed them ALL.
My heart was breaking, over and over again, and I didn't know how to put it back together.
I kept seeing those skeletons with their empty eyes staring back at me, blaming me for what had happened to them.
And rightly so. It's all your fault. You could have kept them safe, if you had done your job properly, but you didn't. You abandoned them! You let them die!
I choked on another sob, clinging tighter to the alien warrior.
No, no, no, it isn't fair. I tried to do what was right. It's not my fault it didn't work. I tried so hard.
I made the excuses, but even I knew they weren't good enough. Nothing would ever be good enough for the dead. Oh, gods, how they blamed me even from the beyond.
None of them could hate me as much as I hated myself.
The pain was overwhelming me, swamping me in the way it had when I was buried underground, and it was choking me. But I had to bear it, had to get myself under control.
Just a moment. Let me grieve for just a moment.
Yes, I could do that. I could allow myself that moment.
But it felt like ages before I was prepared to surface from the agony that crippled my body—ages in which I was pressed tight against the warrior's body, taking comfort in his arms, allowing the soft sounds he made to soothe the ache in my heart.
This feels nice.
The thought was dim, little more than a whisper in my mind, but as soon as it came to me, a rush of reason came along with it.
Gods!
I pulled away from him sharply, mortified by my display of emotion. It was not balanced to cry so heavily, to give in to the pain and the sadness in the way I had. Vivoth and Nytoc would be displeased with me. But even more so for the crime of allowing such proximity to the male again.
What was wrong with me?
But again, the warrior released me without so much as a struggle. My skin felt cold beneath the suit where his arms had been; my cheek felt like it had been frozen the second the warmth of his chest had vanished. I felt his absence like an ache in my bones, and that only furthered my shame.
Without hesitation, I reached for the emotional mask I'd always relied on, falling back on my years of training to push my emotions away: the face of the High Priestess, whose emotions were unreadable, who above all else had balance.
No one had doubted my abilities then, and no one would now. I had allowed myself a few days of weakness, but I would have to be stronger now.
Pain would not help me here, no matter how those skeletons pierced my heart worse than any weapon ever could. Pain would not bring them back, and pain would not save these new creatures from Vivoth.
I felt the cold come over me
, the emptiness I had always relied on, and embraced it with open arms.
I moved through the library with a clinical eye, though I was careful not to look at the skeletons for fear they would crack the mask I had so recently called forth, and began rifling through the shelves of books and ancient texts.
Many of them were rotted, falling apart as soon as I touched them, but I pushed on. I knew I would find what I was looking for, and I was certain it would be in good condition. It was too powerful to have fallen to the effects of time.
At least one rotation passed, perhaps more, before I found the book I was looking for.
A book of old magic, magic that had been put aside once we had sufficiently advanced technology so we didn't need the spells it contained. Among others was a containment spell, and I flipped through the pages rapidly until I found it.
Frustration sparked inside me immediately, but I squashed it with a ruthless hand.
The spell required two people. I couldn't do it on my own, and for a second agonizing despair gripped me.
No. I can't fall into that again. I must be cold. I must not feel. I must not break.
I had to think. There had to be a way around this. Perhaps because of the power Vivoth had granted me, I would be able to do it alone.
Further examination proved it was not the amount of power required that called for two people, but simply the merits of the spell. But there were no others! There was no one to help me!
"Damn it," I cursed.
There is another.
The thought came unbidden, whispering in my mind, and my instinct was to ignore it. No, that was impossible.
You felt it in him. There is a difference in his soul that is not in the other creatures. Trust your instincts.
It was true that I had felt something in the warrior that none of the other creatures had, but that didn't mean anything. It didn't mean he was capable. But what other option did I have?
He spoke the language of the gods. Even if it was just once, he was touched by them. There is something in his soul.
I set my jaw in a firm line and nodded. Fine. I would have to try it. There was no other option available to me.
I walked briskly over to him. He was still standing in the entryway, and I got the distinct impression that he was trying not to intrude. Was he being respectful? I felt a twinge in my heart, but I did my best to ignore it.
He looked at me with one eyebrow raised and asked a question I didn't understand.
I showed him the text, gesturing at it with my free hand. "I need you to do a spell with me."
He frowned, shaking his head, but the look on his face was not entirely confused. It was skeptical.
Why must he be so difficult?
Xiva
The warrior followed me through the temple back to the antechamber where we had left the others. I had gotten Walter to convince the leader and the warrior to let me come here, so perhaps Walter could assist me with the warrior again.
You should really learn his name. You learned the others.
My skin pulsed at the thought. I could have learned his name if I hadn't been so cruel when he said mine. But I felt the opportunity had passed me by, no matter that some small part of me yearned to know.
I spied Walter and Mersssssee crouching over one of the relics on the dais, talking together—or, rather, Walter was talking excitedly about it.
"Walter," I said gently.
He hushed immediately, turned around and walked over to me.
I showed the book to him, not quite holding it out to him, but still he reached for it. I snatched it back to my chest immediately.
"No! You can't touch it. It's too powerful. It would consume you," I said, fearful for his life.
He said something that sounded apologetic.
I gestured at the book with one hand, still cradling it against my body, and then gestured from the warrior to me and back again.
Walter frowned, then he said something and shook his head.
I groaned and put the book down gently.
I would have to do this the hard way, it seemed.
I walked to the center of the antechamber and looked up at the ceiling, where the great vid screens still floated, held aloft by magic much older than I that would be around long after my death.
Raising my hands high to point at the screens, I called my magic forth. My skin lit up, glowing brightly—I could feel it burning around me—and my golden magic leapt from my hands to the screens.
There, I created a scene for them to watch.
On the screens were the warrior and me, standing in the center of the antechamber we were in, with Walter and Mersssssee standing off to one side. We were close to one another, clasping one another's forearms and chanting together. The book was at our feet, glowing in time with every word of the chant.
Then I changed the scene to a vision of Nytoc clawing his way out of the ground, then being sucked back under by an unseen force and the hole closing over him.
The visions ended, and I dropped my hands and looked back at the three of them.
But not really. It was just the warrior I was looking at with fierce determination. I pointed at the book on the ground.
"You," I said, pointing at him. "Me." I pointed at myself. "The book." I pointed at the book. "We will chant together."
His eyes widened, and he jerked back.
For the first time, I saw fear on his face.
Kaidan
Hell, no. Hell fucking no.
This chick had officially gone off her rocker. OK, I had accepted some strange things so far. She could pull energy out of nowhere, and she could fly, and that was weird.
And maybe I hadn't want to say the 'M' word to myself yet—but this was too far. She wanted me to do magic. She wanted me to do a spell with her.
That was too far, and there was no way in hell I was playing along with it. Besides, I was damn sure that was impossible.
I might have some weird mutations—I could sprout claws, and scales, and I had a battle rage that took over me at the worst possible moments—but magic? That was beyond me. I knew that for fucking certain.
"No way, lady. That’s not happening," I said, crossing my arms over my chest and taking a step back.
She frowned, took a step forward to close the distance between us, and held the book out to me, saying something in her language all the while.
"I said no."
She tapped the book with one finger, her tone becoming much more insistent as she spoke.
"Come on, Kaidan, you have to!" Walter piped up, practically jumping up and down beside me. "This is so amazing! You have to try!"
I whipped around to glare at him, and he had the decency to wilt under my gaze.
"I'm not doing this shit," I said, cutting a hand through the air. "This is bullshit. You're a man of science! You know this shit is impossible."
He fixed his glasses, which had slid down his nose, and stood up a little straighter. "What I know is, I saw this woman make a diagnostic device glow and display a video that shouldn't have been possible. I know I saw her launch herself into the air and stay there. I know she’s done impossible things, and if she thinks this is possible, I'm inclined to believe her. I'm a man of science, and I believe that all things are possible with enough research and experimentation—informed, consensual experimentation." He added that hastily when my face darkened.
"Right," I muttered, and then shook my head. "No. The answer is still no."
Walter pouted. "Come on. You could at least give it a try."
"It's not happening."
I glanced over at Mercy, who had been suspiciously quiet throughout the whole conversation. She was watching us, but not saying anything. I got an uneasy feeling about her, just like I had when she forced her way into the trip in the first place.
Shouldn't do this around her. Can't trust her.
Wait. I wasn't doing this, period.
I walked a few paces away from them, running a hand over t
he back of my head. "Just let it go. It's not happening."
"Kaidan, please," Walter whined.
I took a deep breath, about to lay him out to get him to shut up, and then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stiffened immediately, but I didn't need to. Somehow, I knew who was touching me.
I’d know her touch anywhere.
Fuck that thought. It could go right to hell.
I turned to look at the alien woman who had changed everything so suddenly, and saw the pleading look in her eyes. Her eyes still shone with unshed tears, tears that she had forced to stop back in the library.
Not fair. It’s not fair for her to look at me like that.
My heart clenched as she said something softly in her language, and I didn't need to understand her to know what she was saying. She was begging me, and it was obvious she felt this was important to what we’d seen in the library. She wouldn't have pulled herself together so quickly in order to get it from there if she hadn't thought it was important.
Don't let her end up like Anne.
The thought came unbidden, bringing a harsh memory with it. The woman I had failed to save. She had begged me for help, just like this woman was doing right now, and I had turned her aside. It hadn't been a part of the mission, and I had followed orders.
And she had died.
So not fucking fair.
I tried to tell myself that this was different, that she wasn't Anne and that the situations couldn't possibly be compared. But it was no good. She’d already pierced my heart, and I couldn't turn her down now.
"All right," I muttered, dropping my gaze from hers. I nodded. "All right, I'll do it."
She said something else, her inflection rising at the end, and she gripped me a little tighter.
I looked up at her, one corner of my lips tilting up. "I said I'll do it."
Her whole face lit up like the Fourth of July and she stepped towards me, her free arm spreading to the side like she might have been about to hug me, but she clearly thought better of it.
I tried not to be hurt by that. It wasn't a big deal; she clearly didn't want me touching her, although she'd made an exception in the library.