He would not slay the man, should it be so. A disgust rose in him at the thought, but it would bring him no lasting peace to attack this man under the circumstances. It would be an execution, and would not last more than a moment. No, if this was Brings the Rain his device would be activated. He would be brought into an arena. He would be forced to fight.
As he neared, he took one look at the man cowering and was flooded with disappointment. The human’s behavior was understandable. Weaponless, surrounded, alone, and merely a man, there would be no victory in defending himself; whimpering was really the only avenue left to him. Still, Malkier wanted to see the spirit of Echoes the Borealis in his son’s killer. If his son had fallen to this man, he wanted him to be someone that confronted death with dignity; not with a quivering and pathetic appeal for mercy.
His eyes drew down to the dead Ferox beside him, to the telltale signs of this gate’s challenger. His weapon was a long flat rod of some sort. Malkier had seen the imprints of the weapon in the armor of other casualties, had asked Cede to build a model of what the weapon might look like from analyzing the wounds.
The quivering man could not understand the Feroxian speech without an active device, but he seemed to comprehend that Malkier was a point of authority. Desperate, he began to speak in his human language.
“It wasn’t me,” the man said. “I didn’t do this. Please.”
Malkier’s head tilted, though he did not let on that he understood the man’s feeble cries. The prophet turned away from him, facing his lieutenants.
“Get the human off the surface, he won’t last long out here. Take him to my quarters unharmed and guard him until I return. The human is in a weakened state here, fragile, be careful of your strength when you bind him. If anyone from the tribe argues with you, tell them this is their prophet’s decree; that I must wait for our gods to interpret the meaning of his arrival.”
His orders understood, Malkier watched as each of his lieutenants took the man by an arm and carried him away.
“Please, it wasn’t me! Please!” the man’s cries continued to grow more terrified as he was taken away.
Malkier followed, but stopped when he reached the end of the crowd. Burns the Flame had separated from the rest, and stood outside the walls of the ravine. Her eyes showed none of the reverence that the rest of his people held for their prophet.
“I know it was you,” Malkier said.
Burns the Flame turned away, “That was the intention.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
LEAH’S FACE WAS glum as she sat on Paige’s bed once again. Paige frowned at her friend. “What do you mean he just stopped?” she asked.
“He pulled away….” Leah paused and shrugged. “Then he said he had to go.”
“That can’t be everything, that doesn’t make any sense.”
Leah’s head tilted away awkwardly, betraying that perhaps she was leaving something out.
“Oh, come on,” Paige said. “Spill it, Leah.”
“Okay, I didn’t tell you something before,” Leah said. “We weren’t as close as we are now when it happened.”
Her friend’s statement, with its wavering reluctance, had all the signs foreshadowing a big disclosure. Paige found herself pulling the chair from her desk and rolling it until she was sitting eye to eye with Leah. “Lay it on me.”
“It wasn’t actually the first time,” Leah said.
Paige’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“A few weeks ago. I was upset, and Jonathan was there. We were both lonely. I just…” Leah stalled. “I don’t know how to explain.”
Paige studied her friend, fingers beginning to tap against the arm of her chair as she processed this new information. “I’m confused here. If this already happened, then why does—” She closed her eyes and felt an annoyed smile on her face. “Why does he look at you like he has a crush and can’t muster the balls to tell you? If you’ve already….” Paige trailed off, then grimaced. “Wait, was it terrible or something?”
Leah shook her head. “No, nothing like that. But I said something stupid. I don’t even know why I said it.”
Paige gave Leah an incredulous look. “What could you possibly have said that would make him leave in the middle of—” She shrugged. “Well, a sure thing, from how you described it?”
Leah put her face in hands and grumbled, “I may have accidentally left him with the impression that he shouldn’t get attached.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “I say stuff like that all the time—men seldom actually seem to hear it. Especially when I mean it.”
“Right?” Leah said, a look of vindication on her face as she pulled her hands away. “Why does he have to go being the one who took it so seriously?”
“Ughh,” Paige sighed, before she added, “Because he’s Tibbs.” She frowned again a moment later. “I still don’t see why it would make him leave. It’s hard to believe he’d walk away just because he thought he’d get attached. I mean, if that were the case, why did he go on the date in the first place?”
“I told him that I hadn’t really meant it right before anything happened,” Leah said.
Paige brought her hands up in exasperation. “Then what does it have to do with anything?” she asked.
“I think it may be guilt. Maybe?”
Paige tilted her head, eyes narrowing at her friend. “Leah, you are terrible at storytelling,” she said. “What does guilt have to do with anything?”
Leah bit her lip before explaining. “Yesterday morning, this girl showed up in your driveway. She hugged Jonathan as though they were close, but it got strange, because he said he didn’t know her. The girl left, and it was obvious that she was upset. Jonathan looked so bewildered by the whole exchange that I believed him when he said he didn’t know her.”
Paige watched as Leah looked away troubled.
“Then last night happened, and I can’t help thinking I’m being naive. That girl was … attractive,” Leah said. She shook her head. “But it’s not like Jonathan, right? To lie to my face and say he didn’t know her.”
“Well….” Paige grimaced and trailed off. After this morning, she knew that there was a woman in Jonathan’s life that no one had known about. Still, there was so much that was off about the whole story. If Tibbs was involved with this Rylee, why was he sleeping on the couch? Even if he was taking his first trial run at being a bastard, he wasn’t stupid—he wouldn’t lie only to contradict himself the very same day.
“What?” Leah asked.
“What was the girl’s name?” Paige asked.
“Jonathan said he didn’t know. She had an accent though. Brazilian. Why?”
“Because some girl with an accent slept in Jonathan’s room last night,” she said. “Hayden told me her name was Rylee.”
“Oh.” Leah raised her palm up and looked at Paige, annoyed, like she would have liked to have known that detail earlier.
“No, I’m not saying she was with him,” Paige said. “Jonathan slept on the couch.”
“Rylee.” Leah nodded. “That was what Collin said her name was. So, I guess Jonathan must have lied about knowing her.”
Paige didn’t like how it looked any more than Leah, but she didn’t believe Jonathan had it in him to be such a blatant jackass. Then again, lately, she couldn’t claim to know him as well as she once had.
“I’m going to talk to him,” Paige finally said. “There has to be something missing here. It’s too weird.”
The two heard the sounds of motorcycles approaching then, and Paige walked over to her window to see who it was returning. She recognized Collin immediately, and though she had a helmet on as she pulled into the garage, the second rider was obviously the strange girl.
“Better idea,” Paige said. “We give Rylee the third degree before Jonathan gets home.”
Leah shook her head. “It’s not her fault. And I don’t want to look jealous.”
Paige waved her off and smiled. “Don’t worry, I got this,” s
he said. “I’ll be subtle.”
When Jonathan’s shift ended, he told his ride that he needed to run some errands before he headed home, then returned to the alley where he’d met Heyer earlier in the day. The sun was starting to go down, and the alley was empty. He had only been standing around for a minute when he caught a glimpse of the alien on a sidewalk on the other side of the street. Heyer looked around, then without a word started walking away.
Jonathan followed him and saw that he’d turned the corner at the end of the block, but when he reached the same corner and looked around, the alien was nowhere to be seen.
Well, this is new.
He walked up the street, and eventually caught a glimpse of the black coat and fedora when he reached the end of the block. He turned to follow, and found he was heading out of the more suburban area and onto a busier main street. The hour was early enough that there were people coming and going on the sidewalk, and a coffee shop had a few people lounging about on the patio. He walked past them, looking around, trying to get another glimpse of Heyer’s dark clothing amongst the pedestrians.
Finally, he saw him walking away again, at the end of another alley. Jonathan ran to follow, but when he hit the other side of the street, the man had disappeared again. Seeing an obvious pattern, and not knowing how long it could go on, he gave up trying to chase the alien down and just walked. After that went on for a few minutes, he turned up another empty alley and Heyer stepped in front of him, blinking out of thin air as per usual.
“Jonathan,” he said, his eyes scanning the streets and rooftops around them. “Quickly, take out your cell phone and toss it down that gutter.”
Jonathan frowned. “Sure,” he said, doing as instructed, “because I’m made of money.”
It was only a cheap flip phone, but Jonathan repeatedly found it inconvenient that the alien never accounted for his budgetary restraints. Heyer didn’t seem to register the sarcasm—he was too busy sweeping the area with his eyes. When the phone fell through the grate he placed a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder.
“Brace yourself,” the alien said. “This is going to be a bit disorientating.”
Jonathan had just started to narrow his eyes when his vision went black. Gravity seemed to stop pulling down on him and instead yanked in every direction at once.
A moment later, the space where they had stood was empty.
Rylee was trying not to overthink her current situation. She was smiling, so why focus on how that was so different from the norm? Why think about how temporary it might be?
When she’d woken to find herself in a home filled with people her own age, the mood of the place had begun to permeate her skin. She didn’t want to think about how long it had been since she’d sat at a table, drinking coffee with friendly faces, or the last time someone had made her laugh, or she’d listened to people discuss inconsequential things. Comic books, television programs, and movies were at the front of her hosts’ minds. Unlike her, Jonathan had not thought to leave his life behind. She was starting to wonder if he’d known, somehow, that it was the key to staying sane.
When she found out Collin was an artist, she admitted she also dabbled, though not so much of late. They had sketched a picture of one another, while Hayden waited to judge a winner. He couldn’t though—apples and oranges, Hayden had said, and he’d been right. Collin had a style similar to that of the comic books he read, while she tried for a photo-realistic look. Collin’s portrait of her was in her front pocket now. It made her laugh, to be drawn like some superhero, though the expression on her portrait made her wonder if Collin thought her superpower was sass. The irony was that the girl in the picture reminded her more of who she’d been before the superpowers.
She found herself wondering, now that he remembered she existed, how much of Jonathan’s day had been spent thinking of her. After spending her day with Collin on their ‘secret mission of mercy,’ she was impatient to see his face. It was ridiculous, of course; she shouldn’t miss him and she knew it. She didn’t even know enough about him to say what precisely she ‘missed’. Nevertheless, the feeling was there, whether it made sense to her or not.
“It appears we have successfully beat Tibbs home,” Collin said as they pulled into the garage. “What do you think, should we hide it? Screw with him a bit first?”
“Definitely,” she said, smiling conspiratorially. “Where, though?”
Collin looked around a bit before deciding the garage wasn’t going to work. “I’ll stash it in the backyard.”
She winked at him. “I’ll go tell Hayden to come look.”
She put the kickstand down and jumped off her bike, feeling like a child as she ran up the stairs. It was a bit of a disappointment when she entered the living room and Hayden wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She knocked on his door, but no one answered. Giving up on the big-bearded roommate, she headed upstairs to Jonathan’s room to strip off her gear. She dumped the contents of her knapsack onto his bed—mostly a pile of wrinkled clothing, with her journal plopped onto the top. Noticing it as she slid out of her jacket, she snatched the little book off the pile and smiled as she placed Collin’s portrait of her in between some of its pages.
“Hey, Jonath—”
The woman’s voice cut short as Rylee turned to see her.
“Oh, sorry,” the woman said from the doorway. “I thought Jonathan was home. You must be our mystery guest?”
Rylee smiled as she managed to free herself from the leather jacket, letting it fall onto the floor beside Jonathan’s bed. “Hi,” she said, stepping to the woman and holding out her hand. “I’m Rylee. You must beee…?”
“Paige,” the girl said, accepting her hand.
They smiled a bit awkwardly for a moment, both at a loss for what to say to a complete stranger. Paige made the first attempt to break the ice. “I love that accent,” she said. “Where are you from?”
Rylee blushed, but smiled. “Brazil, originally. My family moved to the states when I was young. I never lost the accent though.”
Paige nodded. “Oh, so have you and Jonathan been friends a long time?” she asked.
“No, actually,” Rylee said. “We only met yesterday.”
Paige failed to hide that the answer was causing her some confusion. Tilting her head curiously, she said, “Wow. Well, I guess you two must have hit it off.”
Rylee shrugged. “We have a mutual….” She had to hesitate a moment, looking for the best word. “Acquaintance.”
“Ahhh. Anyone I might know?”
“Oh, I doubt it.” Rylee leaned forward, gently putting her hand on Paige’s wrist, before whispering, “But between you and I, that makes you the lucky one.”
“Hmm.” Paige nodded. “That type of acquaintance.”
Rylee nodded too, leaving the doorway and returning to the piled belongings on Jonathan’s bed. She bit her lip and frowned at the clothes. Everything she had needed to be washed. She took a quick look at Jonathan’s dresser before tucking her arms into the colorful green and yellow T-shirt she was wearing.
Paige’s eyes were on the floor, looking as though she was trying to puzzle out who might be an unlucky acquaintance. “So, what did the three of you get up to last night?” Paige asked. “I’m just being a busy body. I’ll mind my own business if you….”
Paige had trailed off, trying to pretend she needed to clear her throat. Rylee was standing in her bra in front of the dresser, just having pulled out a drawer when she noticed Paige was blushing and didn’t seem to know where to direct her eyes.
“Oh, sorry, I have a gift for making people uncomfortable,” Rylee said, starting to look through the drawer more hastily to find something to cover herself. “Been told I lack a certain modesty.”
“No,” Paige said, still not making eye contact. “Just surprised me.”
Scanning the drawer, Rylee discovered the severe lack of color in the clothing. “Geez, Tibbs,” she said. “Man doesn’t own a shirt that isn’t white, black, or something in bet
ween.” Rylee pulled a white t-shirt with cutoff sleeves from the drawer and frowned at it. Everything was going to be too big on her anyway, but at least it was clean.
“Fashion isn’t really his thing,” Paige said as Rylee pulled the shirt over her head.
When Rylee looked back at her in the doorway, Paige’s smile looked forced and she still didn’t seem to want to make eye contact even though Rylee had covered herself. She started to wonder if Paige didn’t approve of her wearing the clothing. The thought reminded her that she was a guest—a stranger.
“Oh, Jonathan said he didn’t mind,” Rylee said. “I only need to borrow it while I do laundry.”
Paige shrugged, shaking her head. “No worries here,” Paige said, though it seemed a politeness. “So, where did you say you and Jonathan met?”
“Oh, right,” Rylee said. “We’re members of a group.”
“Group? Hmm, he’s never mentioned any groups before.” Paige stepped into the room, leaning against Jonathan’s door frame. “Between you and I,” she said, “he keeps to himself a lot lately.”
Rylee nodded, but her smile faltered. She remembered how protective of secrets Jonathan had been the night before. She thought he was being overly paranoid. Collin and Hayden had been plenty curious, but about her, not her relationship with Jonathan.
“What kind of group?” Paige asked, after her last comment didn’t get an answer.
Rylee hesitated a moment, not wanting to be impolite. “I’m sorry, but if Jonathan didn’t mention it….” She shrugged. “I don’t think I should talk about it. He’s been very kind offering me somewhere to stay. I’d hate to repay him by saying something he might consider private. I hope you understand. Not meaning any rudeness.”
“No, no, I understand. Like I said, I’m a busy body, shouldn’t pry,” Paige said. “I promise, though, I’m only asking because I care about him a lot.”
Rylee bit her lower lip as she took in the woman’s words. “Um, I just realized,” Rylee said. “I’m sorry, but are you two…”
Rylee looked to the floor awkwardly, not sure if she should be so forward.
The Never Paradox (Chronicles Of Jonathan Tibbs Book 2) Page 20