BONDED

by S. D. Harrison

  I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m going to bed.” I turn to leave, not caring that he is still standing in the middle of my kitchen. I don’t know why I’m being so difficult.

  My foot is on the first step when T.K. picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder. “Hey! Put me down!” I shout as he carries me up the stairs.

  “I’m bringing you to bed, per your instructions.”

  “That is not what I meant!”

  T.K. drops me down on the bed, kicking the door closed with his foot. He holds my wrists and pins me down with his body. I’m trapped in both the best and worst possible way. He brings his lips an inch away from my mouth, his eyes holding mine prisoner. “I’m going to need you to repeat that declaration. You know, for the records.”

  “Ugh, get off.” I swat at him, trying exceptionally hard not to smile, kiss him, or laugh.

  He kisses my neck.

  “You already said it once, what’s one more time?” he whispers, lips still brushing my skin.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I’ve run out of oxygen.

  “Yes you do.” His lips trace the neckline of my dress.

  I let out an involuntary gasp and T.K. knows he has won. He brings his lips back to my neck, whispering in my ear. “Here, I’ll even say it first. You just need to repeat it. Taylor,” he starts.

  “Who the hell is Taylor?” My mind is more focused on his lips than his words.

  “It’s my first name. Taylor Knight. T.K. I think declarations should use proper names, don’t you?” He is still talking into my neck. It never occurred to me T.K. might stand for anything in particular.

  “Is that your actual name, or your human name?”

  T.K. sighs and removes himself from my neck. He does not release his hold on my body. “I don’t have another name. Or if I do, I don’t remember it.”

  “Where did you get this one?”

  “I read it somewhere,” he says hesitantly. “I liked it, so I kept it. When I met Markus and the others, they started calling me T.K. Chane thought it sounded more badass.”

  “Why do you all have the same last name, then? Are you actually related?”

  “No, it’s unlikely. The others took my last name when I joined them, you know, for appearances.”

  “Why yours?”

  “Mine was the coolest. And I’m the least flexible.” He looks down at me, smirking. “Are we done with the Q and A?”

  “You said you can change your appearance. Did you start as a child? Or have you always made yourself appear older? If I asked, could you change your nose right now?”

  T.K. sighs again. He looks a little uncomfortable. “I’ve always made myself look older. And I could, I guess, but I’d rather not. It’s time consuming and uncomfortable.”

  “If you were always pretending to be older, how did you learn? Remedial kindergarten?” I tease, mentally running through all of my questions. I should have written them down.

  “Some things are inherent. My kind reaches full maturity within the first couple of years of life.” I struggle to nod–if I move, our lips will meet and I know I can’t handle the distraction. “Well, once we’re fully mature we…are able to absorb certain things. Basic knowledge, motor-skills… Nothing overly complex, but it’s always been enough to blend in. I picked up most things within a handful of minutes on Earth by being near humans. It was the same for the rest of us. Markus believes it’s our natural instinct to adapt to our surroundings. At home, it was a necessary aspect of survival. He thinks it translates where ever we are, not that he’s tested the theory.”

  “What was your home like?” I try to sit up and fail.

  “I’ve been told it was cold and miserable, but that’s coming from Markus. I remember little about it, other than leaving. We didn’t bond to our families there, so most of us were alone shortly after birth. I don’t remember my birth parents at all.”

  A part of me is jealous. If I never had memories of my father to cling to, what would I be like now? There would have been nothing to suffer though, no one to mourn.

  “Why do you form bonds here, then? If it’s against your nature, why choose this?” T.K. can hear the pain in my voice. He turns, shifting us slightly so our position is more of an embrace rather than a prison.

  “It’s human nature to form attachments. When we came here, we were flooded with human thoughts, emotions, and customs. I tried to fight it for a long time, as do many of my kind.” A dark look clouds his features for a brief moment. When it’s gone, I question whether it was a figment of my imagination. “It’s hard to be alone here. After... When I met Markus, he introduced me to an entirely different way of living. He’s happier here than he was at home, and humans are the reason for that. He’s the best of our kind, and the most open.” I watch as a new light brightens his eyes. T.K.’s love for his surrogate uncle is obvious. “Chane is proof of that.”

  “Chane?” I ask, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

  “Chane isn’t like the rest of us. She was born here, on Earth.”

  The knowledge they can reproduce here should frighten me. Isn’t that how science fiction movies begin? They come, they take, they takeover?

  “She’s half human. Markus is her biological father. He, uh, mated with a human woman shortly after he arrived here. She bailed on him when she learned what he was.”

  “He told her?”

  T.K. rolls onto his side, making our bodies perfectly parallel to one another. It is difficult to see the colour of his eyes in the dark of my room, but I can feel them piercing into mine.

  “Well, after Chane was born it became pretty obvious something wasn’t quite right. She learned too quickly, grew too fast. He’s raised her himself. Well, with Darien’s help. They knew each other before we came here. Darien warned Markus about getting involved with a human, but he didn’t listen.” T.K. says the last part with a smirk, as though he has received a similar lecture. “What he didn’t realize at the time is that we can’t conceive with each other. We think Chane is one of the first half-breeds born.”

  “What do you mean? Like, you couldn’t have a baby with another of your kind?”

  “Nope. We think it has something to do with the way our DNA reacts to this planet. Whatever happens when we take on human form altars something important in our genetic code. Two, uh, damaged bodies, I guess you can say, prevents conception. We didn’t know that when we came here, and I think a lot of our kind may have left once they figured it out. As it turns out, Earth isn’t as ideal as we initially thought.” A sad smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.

  “How did your species mate before?”

  T.K. crinkles his nose at the word mate. It’s obviously not his word of choice. “Since we don’t have corporeal forms by nature, breeding involves splitting off a part of yourself and combining it with a part of someone else.” My eyes widen as he speaks, trying to picture what he describes. I regret it immediately. “It’s supposed to be painful, and it weakens the, uh, parents.”

  “I can only imagine.” I cringe again, and this time T.K. notices. I feel bad instantly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I know this is a lot. Are you sure you want to talk about it?” His voice perks up at the suggestion of a change in topic, which only succeeds in getting me back on track.

  “So why doesn’t that work here?” I ask, drilling on. I can handle this.

  T.K. groans, covering his eyes with his arm, even though there is no light in the room. “We don’t take on human form by choice. Without it, we wouldn’t last more than a few hours on Earth. The...birthing process...takes days. No one would survive. Markus thinks if we could do it the human way, with each other, it would produce a similar being, but since that’s not an option, half-breeds are the only alternative.”

  “But the others don’t like them?”

  “It’s not that they don’t like them, but they see them as different. Which is fair, they are different.” I raise my eyebrows in question,
poking him in the side when he doesn’t immediately continue his explanation. “They have similar control over energy and heightened strength and speed, but it’s not quite as advanced. Plus, they can’t manipulate their appearance. Their bodies are tied to them like those of humans,” he says, twisting my hair around his index finger. The gesture sends shivers down my spine.

  “How many are there? Half-breeds, I mean.”

  “We don’t know. Probably a lot, if I had to guess. We need to keep our species alive somehow, even if it’s not ideal.”

  We are silent for a few moments as I play with the idea of a half-alien baby in my mind. It’s weird, but it doesn’t make me want to throw up, either. That’s something, right? I suddenly feel five-hundred-years-old. I shove the thought of little Raye-T.K. babies far out of my mind.

  “But now that we are on the topic,” I start, as another thought occurs to me, “you are… I mean, human mating does appeal to you, I’m assuming?”

  T.K. slides his hand up my dress. He pulls me on top of his body, his hand resting on my upper thigh. We are pressed so closely together, we may as well be one person.

  There is little question afterward about whether he is aroused by humans.

  “Have I answered your question?” he asks, voice low and husky.

  “Thoroughly.”

  “Any more questions?”

  I desperately want to tell him no. “Many,” I reply instead.

  “Okay.” He sighs and rolls away from me, facing the ceiling. “You may proceed with your questioning, Miss McKenna.”

  I question T.K. until four in the morning. I can tell he is tired, but he answers most of my questions with as much information as he can. I don’t ask the one question I want to ask above all others. I don’t ask about my dreams, nor do I mention them in passing. I will keep that piece to myself. A part of me is ashamed, another worried I won’t like the answer he will give.

  “What do you call yourselves?”

  “On Earth we call ourselves Tatlan. It means immortal beings.”

  “Wait, you’re immortal?” I ask, horrified.

  “Not immortal. But we live longer than humans. Usually about a hundred and fifty years.”

  “What do you look like without a human form?”

  “Sort of like a shadow. Intangible, but visible if you know what you’re looking for.”

  There are a couple, like my question about the science behind the physical shift that he only touches on lightly, but I figure it is too late to address something so complex, anyway. He refuses to give me a demonstration, so I file it away for later.

  “How do you afford such nice cars? And your house? Do you have special alien backers?”

  That one gets me a deep, throaty laugh. “Hardly. We work for our money like everyone else. I don’t think the government would be too interested in funding the lives of a bunch of invaders. Markus is amazing when it comes to the stock market, and he does work from home. He runs a tech company. His name is on dozens of apps. If you used that phone of yours more, you’d be surprised.”

  “What about Darien? Where is he really? I know you don’t have parents running around Europe for him to visit.”

  “We may not have parents there,” T.K. begins, his voice noticeably less amused. Talking about Darien is obviously not his favourite topic. “But he needed a break, and it’s his favourite continent. He and Markus lived there for many years before returning to North America. Chane was actually born in France and lived there until she was ten. Not everything we’ve said about ourselves has been a lie.” A sad smile cloud’s his face and he refuses to meet my eyes. “Last I heard he was in Italy staying with some friends. He’s older than the rest of us, despite what his body looks like. You’d be amazed how boring high school can be if you’ve taken it already.”

  “How many times have you been in high school?” I pat his hand to console him. I remember how close he and Darien were; he must miss him a considerable amount. I know what it feels like to have pieces of you snapped off and taken elsewhere.

  “This is my first go. I only came to stay with Markus a couple of years ago, and he didn’t feel I was ready until now. It’s a big adjustment, spending large quantities of time around humans.”

  “Who did you spend time with before?”

  “I didn’t. I spent my time alone, mostly hating what I was. Fitting in isn’t easy when you know how different you are. Markus helped me figure things out. Like I said, he loves Earth and he has a real understanding of humans. My life has done a one-eighty since I came to stay with him.” I feel like there is more he wants to say on the topic, but he remains silent.

  The conversation is taking a toll on T.K. and I’m eager to wrap things up–at least for the night. I don’t like seeing him sad, or uncomfortable for that matter. I know enough to feel safe around him, and that’s more than I’m used to.

  “Okay, I’m done with my questions,” I say, surprising him.

  “Really? You’re all done?” Satisfaction spreads through me as I watch the smile creep back onto T.K.’s face. He even adjusts the lights in the room, warming us with a dim glow.

  “For tonight.”

  “Good.” He slides his hand back up my dress, stopping at my hip. His hand feels like fire against my bare skin. “Now, I believe I’m waiting on a declaration.”

  “Back to that again? Do you ever give up?”

  “On occasion; but I’m not giving up on this. Say it,” he prompts. The smell of cinnamon dances across my face. When I don’t say anything, he rolls me onto my back. He begins trailing kisses along my neck, pushing his hands further and further up my body until the dress is more of a shirt. “I really like the dress. Have I mentioned that?”

  “It may have come up,” I breathe, trying to focus on where I am and what my name is and what month we are in.

  “It would probably look better on the floor, though.” He starts kissing the inside of my thighs.

  “T.K….”

  “Mm?”

  “You drive me crazy.”

  “Oh?” he says, lifting himself up so that our lips are only an inch apart.

  “What more do you want me to say?” I ask exasperatedly. I’m hardly able to string together a coherent thought.

  “How about something like: Taylor, you are insanely handsome. I like you. I would be honoured to classify you as my boyfriend.”

  “I am not saying that,” I say, pushing myself up onto my elbows. “No amount of kissing is going to turn me into a love-sick puppy.”

  T.K. purses his lips, considering. “That’s fair. I’d setting for the ‘I like you’ part.”

  I roll my eyes. “Fine, I like you,” I grumble. “Are you happy?”

  “Very,” he says, capturing my lower lip between his.

  I let T.K. lower me back onto the bed, my hands tangling in the curls of his hair.

  “Where’s the zipper on this thing?” he asks as my bedroom door cracks open. The sound is quiet, but it may as well be a bomb detonating.

  “Mom!” I shout, shoving T.K. off the bed. He hits the ground with an impressive thud.

  “Oh, finally,” Mom sighs, turning right around and closing the door. I swear I hear her mention something about a condom.

  “I think I’m having heart attack,” T.K. says, trying–and failing–to fix his hair.

  I groan and fall backward onto the bed.

  “I should go.” He hovers over me, not looking at all like someone who wants to leave.

  “I don’t think she will care if you stay,” I offer.

  “If I stay, I’m going to try to rip that dress off you.” I don’t see anything particularly wrong with the picture, but he continues. “And it has occurred to me I haven’t even taken you out on a date yet. I wouldn’t want you to go around thinking I’m some kind of player or anything.”

  “You were right,” I say. He raises an eyebrow in question. “This dress does look better on the floor.”

  T.K. smiles as he kiss me good
bye, leaving me alone with a head full of inappropriate thoughts.

  CHAPTER 18

  I hardly recognize myself anymore.

  In two short months I have become the girl who waits after class to see her boyfriend–although I sure as hell am not calling him that in public–and who shares kisses underneath the stairs like a hormone-crazed animal.

  Not for the first time, I wonder if this is what happiness feels like. Perhaps instead of getting high, I should have been dating. I don’t even feel angry most of the time. It is like I’m a stranger in my own body.

  “Good morning,” I say, handing Lindsay a latte. I woke up early and decided to spoil myself.

  “Maybe I should start kissing T.K., too,” she laughs. “I mean, if he’s good enough to make you nice, I think he could bring about world peace.”

  I laugh along with her. An actual laugh. “I’ve always been nice.”

  Lindsay sighs, drawing out the breath. “I feel like I never see you anymore, though. I blame them.” Them being T.K. and Marcella. “If they could cope for ten minutes maybe we could double.”

  I reflect on my attempted dates with T.K. He took me to a movie, which we spent the duration of sitting in one seat. Then he took me to dinner, which also ended with us sitting in one seat. I don’t know if doubling will fare well for us.

  “I know what you mean. We need a girls’ night, you and me.”

  “Okay. It’s official. I’m going to have to kiss T.K. Are you seriously suggesting a girls’ night? As in, I won’t have to force you or spent three hours on the phone talking you into it?”

  I laugh. Again. “No force necessary. Why don’t I come over tonight? I’ll bring Thai food and three tubs of ice cream and we can watch those vomit-inducing movies you like.”

  “Sold!” she cheers before patting me on the head.

  When we arrive at my locker, Lindsay and I separate as she goes off in hunt of Marcella. I do miss the quality time with her; I’m immediately excited about our plans for the evening. Although kissing T.K. brightens my days an inordinate amount, I still need Lindsay time.

  The new semester means T.K. and I no longer have any classes together, which is probably a good thing. The way we’re going, we’d probably end up in the back row trying to see how long we could go without oxygen.