by F. T. Lukens
“I was on Erden. I was stuck in the forest. In the sand.” Ren looked around, confused. The light was low and the shadows moved. They made Ren nervous, and, after a flick of his hand, the lights blazed.
Asher blinked, then stood. “Ren, it was a dream. You’re on the Star Stream.”
“I know,” Ren snapped, pulling his body straight. He paced the length of his cell. His pulse thumped; adrenaline was a live current in his veins. He gazed around the small space, not seeing it. Expecting to see granules of sand, he studied his palms. There was nothing.
“I need to go back.”
“Where?”
“Home. I need to go back home.”
Asher put his hands on his hips and gazed at the ceiling. “Ren, we’ve talked about that. It’s not possible right now. Not until you’re stable.”
“This is how you can help me.”
Asher went pale. “What?”
“You want to help me. This is how you can help me. You want me to be the person you knew? I need to go back.”
“How? Were you… listening to me? Spying on me?”
Ren froze. He ran a hand through his hair. It was sticky with sweat, and he pushed it from his face.
“I heard you over the comm. I was in the ship.”
“Purposefully?”
“Kind of? That’s not the point.”
“It kind of is the point, Ren. You spied on me.”
“That doesn’t matter. If you do care about me, you’ll help me.”
“And if I don’t?”
Ren hadn’t considered that. He narrowed his eyes and slowed his manic pacing. “I’ll do what I have to, anything I have to.”
Asher pointed at him. “You are out of control,” he said, enunciating every word. “Do you understand that? Do you get the position I’m in here? I’m trying to protect you!”
“You are trying to keep me captive!” The words erupted from Ren’s mouth. As his power flickered, the lights dimmed, and the comm crackled. “I don’t need you to protect me. I am a star, more powerful than anyone on this ship.”
Asher stepped back. His green eyes narrowed, and his mouth clamped into a firm line. He clenched his jaw, and, with his shoulders pulled back, he was every inch a soldier.
Ren hated it.
“Your behavior is erratic. You can’t sleep. You don’t eat. You dream and you put everyone on this ship at risk. You are falling apart, and everyone can see it but you.”
“You think I can’t see it? You think I don’t feel it? I know, all right? I know.” Ren peered at his hands. He pulled his fingers toward his palm, then straightened them and spread them out as far as they could go. “I know all of that. I know and I’m trying. But you don’t understand.”
“And I suppose Millicent does.”
Ren snapped his head up. “What the stars does that mean?”
Asher crossed his arms. He studied the door to the hallway intently, as if it held the secrets to the universe. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
Ren frowned. His body trembled. “I want to go back to my village. I want to try to find my family. I want to find Liam. I need to know if everyone really is gone.”
Asher met Ren’s pleading gaze with a hard, cold one of his own. “You can’t.”
“Ash—”
“Not while VanMeerten is looking for any excuse to throw you in a cell. You need to stay under her radar and keep your power under control. Am I clear?”
Ren flushed, embarrassed, ashamed, and angry. “Crystal. And I think you should leave.”
“Ren—”
“Get out.” He bit out the words. “Or do I need permission for that, too?”
The remaining color of Asher’s complexion fled save for two bright spots on his cheeks. He stood with his body in one long, taut line.
“Fine. Report in an hour. Try to be presentable.”
Asher spun on his heel and stalked out of the room. He slammed the door behind him with enough force that Ren’s night table rattled.
The star throbbed in Ren’s middle, and he was livid down to his bones. He yelled, wordless, and a pulse of blue light flashed. The comm crackled, and his lights stuttered. For a moment, every system halted, frozen by Ren’s frustration. It was only a moment, then everything whirred back to life.
He sank to his floor and buried his face in his hands.
* * *
After he calmed down, Ren washed, and, following Asher’s instructions, attempted to look presentable. Foregoing breakfast, he walked to the bridge and jerkily moved to his spot next to Rowan.
She raked her gaze over him, and her mouth tightened. “You wouldn’t have had anything to do with the slight pause in the ship’s systems about an hour ago, would you?”
Ren glared. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I figured.” She tossed her braid over her shoulder. “I’m glad you managed to rest. But you’re looking a little… defiant today. You may want to tuck that away before the feed goes live.”
Ren didn’t answer. He lifted his chin and he heard Rowan sigh next to him.
Millicent skipped up the stairs and, meek as always, stood next to Rowan. Her deference made Ren burn even more. Asher was the last to join them. He didn’t look at Ren. He kept his gaze on the far wall and when he turned to face the vid screen, his movements were abrupt and sure, soaked in military routine.
Rowan glanced at them, but said nothing. The tension on the bridge was thick enough to cut with a saw. It would be apparent to VanMeerten and it would launch questions and give her enough reason to make the Star Stream turn around and go back to Mykonos Drift.
But Ren was finished playing a part. He was a star host. He was a being imbued with the power of the stars. He was more than this body. He would not apologize for his existence any longer.
The screen blinked into life. In her uniform as always, VanMeerten sat at her desk. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, and there was no indication she had moved since the last time Ren had seen her. She could very well be as nonhuman as Ren. He had no proof she wasn’t.
“I trust you are all well,” she said, tenting her fingers and peering down at them from the end of her pointed nose.
Unflinching, Ren met her gaze. He didn’t speak, but she raised her eyebrow at him and her lips curled.
“Everything is very well,” Rowan said. “As you can see, Ren has rested and is looking better. His power is under control, and Millicent is adjusting to crew life.”
“He is over space sickness in one day? That’s impressive. In my experience, it takes closer to a week.”
“It was a mild case, and our medic is second to none.”
“I see. Well, if there are no concerns, then I will check in again tomorrow.”
On the screen, VanMeerten reached to close the connection, but before she could, Asher stepped forward. He blocked Ren’s view of the general. All Ren could see was the strong line of Asher’s back and the symbol of the rising Phoenix, wings outspread, flames wreathed around the bird’s talons, on the top of his bicep.
“Actually, I have an incident to report.”
Rowan cut her gaze to Asher. She seemed concerned, scared, and confused.
“Ash,” she said. “What are you doing?”
“Telling the truth,” he said.
Ren couldn’t see VanMeerten’s face, but he could imagine how she appeared as her features took on a predator-like expression. She was hungry for any reason to lock Ren away for the rest of his natural life—until she had use for him.
“Ren has nightmares,” Asher continued. “He has nightmares and panic attacks and he puts us at risk. He has attempted to vent the ship on one occasion. On another, the oxygen began to fail.”
“Ash!” Rowan barked.
The words lanced through Ren like a sword; the betrayal bit deep into h
is flesh. His mouth fell open. Asher kept his eyes fixed on the screen.
“Why have you not reported this sooner?”
“Because I was giving the subject the benefit of the doubt. I was attached to him, but I cannot remain quiet any longer. He obviously cannot handle the environment here and he is putting us all in danger.”
Ren recoiled from the impersonal language. Asher spoke in the past tense. He “was” attached, as if he wasn’t now. Ren had known the end was coming, but to hear it, to experience it, in front of the woman who wanted him locked away and in front of his friends was more than he could bear. Part of him wanted to shrivel up and die, but another part of him, the part intimately connected to the star, that part of him raged.
“I see. Captain Morgan, I believe this experiment of allowing the subjects into space has failed. Come back to Mykonos immediately.”
Rowan placed her hands on her hips. “No. The Corps does not dictate my business. I have made a commitment to see this supply run through and I will not have my reputation sullied because of a snit fit between my brother and Ren.”
“Do you not agree that the subject is a danger?”
“He’s about as dangerous as anyone on this ship. I have a pulse gun and know how to use it. Ollie easily is the strongest. Pen could poison us. A teenage twig from a dust-hole planet is merely one of many threats.”
“So you do believe him a threat? A weapon?”
Rowan opened her mouth to retort, but snapped it shut. VanMeerten had twisted her words. Rowan couldn’t backtrack.
Ren, however, had heard enough. He was through with others deciding his fate. He was taking control of this situation—his status be damned. He pushed Asher out of his way and stood in front of VanMeerten.
“I want to go home,” Ren said, his voice even, his tone sharp as steel.
VanMeerten raised an eyebrow. She braced her hands on her desk, fingers spread. “What?”
“I want to go home,” Ren stated. “I don’t know how much simpler I can say it.”
“Ren,” Asher whispered harshly, but Ren ignored him.
“You don’t have a home. It was my understanding that your village was destroyed.”
Ren controlled his flinch and stood his ground. He pulled his spine straight and didn’t shrink from her gaze.
“Maybe, but I want to see for myself. You can’t keep me from going.”
She stood, hands gripping the edge of her desk, and loomed forward. “I can. And I will. Captain Morgan, I want you to turn your ship around immediately and bring this young man back to Mykonos.”
“No,” Ren said. “You will not, Captain.”
“Are you testing me, star host?”
“I have a name,” Ren said. He clenched his fists; anger rose hot and quick. Sparks flickered around his fingers. “I’m not a subject. I’m a person and I have a home.” His vision turned blue around the edges. “And I want to go back to my planet and find my family. You have no right to deny me.”
“I have every right. You are a threat, and it is my duty to protect—”
“I am not a threat!” The vid screen fluttered as static gathered at the corners. “I am a star host, and you cannot stop me. Your Phoenix Corps cannot stop me, and you know that.”
“Ren,” Asher said, his voice a low command. “You need to calm down. Your eyes are blue.”
“Stay out of this, Ash, especially if all you are going to do is take her side.” Ren pointed a shaking finger toward the vid screen. Asher crossed his arms and kept his expression flat, and Ren saw the connection between them turn to cinder. Good. He didn’t need Asher. It was better he didn’t have any emotional entanglements.
“I can see that this situation has gotten out of hand. I’ve allowed you too much freedom. I’m afraid I am going to have to call you back to Mykonos and, if you cannot control yourself, I will be forced to send you to the facility near the Perilous Space.”
Ren turned back to VanMeerten and stalked forward. “Do I need to remind you I disabled an entire ship with a thought? That I can make your weapons inert with barely a whisper? I can infect Mykonos Drift like a virus in a mere breath, and then where will you be? How can you protect your people from a power like mine?”
Ren hit a nerve. He could see it in the twitch of VanMeerten’s mouth, the worried wrinkle that appeared on her forehead, the almost imperceptible movement of her eyebrows.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Rowan said. She slammed her hand down on Ren’s shoulder and yanked him back. “Obviously, Ren here is a little homesick and a lot more space sick than we thought. General, the crew of the Star Stream will gladly take him back to Erden under the watchful eye of your very own corporal here after we finish this supply run. If you grant us this request, of course. I am sure you understand that with the extra mouths to feed on the ship, I need all the income available to me, even with the Corps’ generous stipend. I will personally see that Ren gets a good night’s sleep, drugged if needed as per your suggestion.” She gave Ren a shake as if he was a naughty puppy. “We’ll check in tomorrow, and you can give us your decision regarding the trip back to his planet. Until then, Morgan out.”
Asher lunged for the comm console and ended the transmission before the general could so much as blink.
Then Ren found himself pinned to the wall with Rowan’s forearm like iron across his chest and her face tilted up to stare right into his.
“What the stars has gotten into you?” she demanded, seeming utterly furious; her cheeks were pink. “Are you addled? Threatening the Corps? After what you did yesterday morning? Stars, Ren. I should shove you out the aft airlock right now after that stunt. Seriously. Taunting a general? You are going to end up in Perilous Space!”
Ren could barely breathe. His head thunked against the wall. He didn’t want to cry, he didn’t, not in front of Asher and Rowan and Millicent, but the tears burned in his eyes. He tried to blink them away, but they spilled down his cheeks in rivulets.
“And you!” she said, swinging around to thrust a finger into Asher’s chest, and thereby letting go so Ren could breathe again. “What the stars was that? I thought the plan was to protect Ren, not throw him to a black hole?”
“It needed to be said.”
“What is going on with you two?”
Asher stuck out his chin. “It needed to be reported for our own safety. Rowan, do you honestly think the Corps wouldn’t charge you with treason if they found out what’s been going on without us telling them? They’d take away your license to captain. Stars, they’d take away this ship! Are you willing to risk everyone’s home? Your livelihood?”
Rowan stared, astonished, mouth open. “What’s wrong with you? A few months ago you would’ve died for this kid and now you’re acting like you hardly know him.”
Asher crossed his arms. “Things change.”
Rowan threw up her hands. “That’s great. Just great. You’re both acting like your personalities were replaced when I wasn’t looking, like you’ve been swapped out.” She paused. “You haven’t been, have you?”
“No,” Ren said.
Asher rolled his eyes.
“Well, I don’t know. Since I’ve met you I’ve seen things I didn’t know were possible. What’s body snatchers compared to transporting a ship across the cluster?” She tossed her long, golden braid over her shoulder. “What do we do now?”
“I need to go back to Erden,” Ren said softly. “I’m sorry, Rowan.” He was. He was so sorry. “I’m not myself. I don’t feel like myself.”
Her expression softened. “We’ll figure it out, Ren. But you can’t do that,” she said, sweeping her arm toward the vid screen. “Understand? You have a target on your back a league wide, and if you want to live, if you want to have any kind of freedom, you have to be on your best behavior.”
Ren bit his lip and nodded. He didn’t want to say anyt
hing about his supposed freedom. This wasn’t the moment. But he understood. Cogs, what had he done? “I understand.”
She touched his arm. “Good. Now, go do something and get out of my sight. I’m irritated just looking at you.”
With his eyes downcast, Ren nodded. He brushed passed Asher. Their shoulders touched, the tips of Ren’s fingers whispered over the back of Asher’s hand, and, for a split second, the components of Asher’s shoulder flashed in Ren’s mind. But the moment ended, and the feelings Ren had for Asher were mired in complications and regret.
Maybe it would be easier if Ren hadn’t formed such a strong bond with Asher in the beginning. Maybe if they hadn’t kissed; maybe if Ren hadn’t allowed himself the affection he had for Asher; maybe if Ren hadn’t fallen so quickly, so deeply, hadn’t counted on Asher and cared for Asher; maybe the thick tension between them wouldn’t seem so terrible.
In his heart, Ren wanted Asher’s friendship back. He wanted to explore their relationship. He wanted to hold hands and kiss and be together. And once he’d been certain Asher wanted that too. Ren wasn’t sure of that any longer. And stars, Ren couldn’t get past the fact he had traded one prison for another. Instead of a despotic baron, the organization to which Asher held the most allegiance was his captor.
Now, when Ren saw Asher, all he could see was another person who wanted to control and use him—and who had betrayed him.
It made panic and fear crawl into his throat and sweat break out along his skin. It made his heart stutter, and not in the way it should. Everything was wrong.
And there was no way to fix it.
3
Another day in space. Another dream.
Ren woke on the floor with cold sweat rolling down the nape of his neck as he panted; his breath fogged the deck plate. He didn’t know how he got there. He hadn’t woken when he’d jarred to the floor, but his fingers were pressed flat against the metal and his arms were tense, as though he had dragged himself there. No ship alarms sounded, but his door swung open. There stood Jakob and Asher, both in their sleeping clothes and both absolutely panicked.
Ren turned his head and regarded them with a hazy slitted gaze. Jakob was ashen; his brown hair was mussed and in disarray. Asher crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Ren with his jaw clenched. Neither breached the threshold, and that told Ren more than anything.