“I doubt it.” Troy stretched and flexed his fingers. “If he snitches, he’ll have to admit that he hit you. He’ll keep his mouth shut—or his eyes shut, or whatever, since that’s how they talk.” He started to say something more, but Elle joined them, and Troy stood a few inches straighter and tightened his abs.
Elle didn’t spare him a glance. “Why haven’t you showered yet?” she asked Cara in a rush. “The headmaster called a house meeting in the dining hall. You can’t be late.”
Cara checked her pocket to make sure she hadn’t lost her com-sphere. “I didn’t get an alert.”
“You didn’t?” Elle seemed surprised at that. “The message transmitted a few minutes ago.”
Cara shook her sphere and listened for the rattle of loose parts. “Maybe it’s broken.” That would explain why she hadn’t been able to reach Aelyx. “Did the headmaster say what’s wrong?”
Elle cupped her mouth and whispered as if the message were too shameful to speak aloud. “It’s Instructor Helm. His tablet has gone missing—he believes someone stole it.”
“Whoa,” Troy said. “That’s a heavy accusation. Don’t they execute people for theft?”
Elle seemed to notice him for the first time. She scanned his sweaty chest and took a step back. “Yes, but there hasn’t been an execution in many generations. Our people know better than to steal.”
“I’m sure he left it somewhere and forgot.” Cara pressed a palm to her keypad. “I need to grab some clean clothes.”
“Me, too.” Troy nodded good-bye to Elle, but she ignored him. Poor guy.
Elle rushed to the cafeteria, and Cara hurried into her room to gather a towel and a uniform. She stuffed her com-sphere beneath her pillow for safekeeping, but in doing so, she heard it click against another object. She used her fingers to explore, feeling cool, smooth metal. She lifted her pillow and a breath locked in her throat. There, on her mattress, rested a white-rimmed tablet.
Instructor Helm’s tablet.
Oh, fasha. She was toast.
The pillow slipped from Cara’s fingers as she realized what this meant. Helm’s tablet hadn’t accidentally materialized on her bunk. Someone had planted it there to frame her. For a capital crime. Dahla had assisted Helm in his lecture today, which had given her access to his tablet. But Cara had barely exchanged ten words with the girl. She couldn’t hate humans that much, could she?
Cara sank onto the mattress, wondering what to do.
If she returned the tablet to the headmaster and told him the truth, he might believe her, but then again, he might not. She could use Silent Speech to project her feelings of fear, but not to proclaim her innocence.
Maybe she should wipe the prints from Helm’s device and return it to his classroom. The clones and instructors had assembled in the cafeteria, so it could work if she hurried. But what if a latecomer caught her in the act? She’d look guilty as homemade sin inside Helm’s lab with his stolen tablet in her hand. And what about video cameras? She didn’t know if L’eihrs recorded activity in the hallways like at Midtown High.
One thing was certain: she couldn’t leave the tablet here. Whoever had planted it would lead the headmaster to her room. Cara grabbed her blanket and used it to wipe down the glossy screen and the metallic backside, hopefully erasing her fingerprints. She wrapped it in a clean towel and stepped into the hallway, still unsure of what to do.
In a daze, she glanced past the vacant lobby and toward the cafeteria. Maybe instead of returning the tablet to Helm’s class, she should leave it in the bathroom or shove it down the sanitation chute.
Wait, the sanitation chute…
Of course! Why hadn’t she thought of that before? It would take days before anyone discovered the tablet, and even then, no one could link it to her. She scrambled toward the nearest sanitation door and tugged the handle.
“Hello, Cah-ra.”
She flinched, nearly dropping her bundle, and whirled around to find Jaxen approaching from the other end of the hall.
Double fasha.
Jaxen’s smile fell as he surveyed her. “Are you all right?”
Cara clutched the evidence to her chest and stepped away from the chute. What were the odds she could get rid of Jaxen and ditch the tablet before the assembly began?
At her silence, he bent to meet her height, and studied her closely. “Your pupils are dilated, your cheeks are pale, and I can see the pulse racing at the base of your throat. What’s wrong?”
Those odds? Zero. Even if she chucked the tablet, Jaxen would remember this encounter and suspect she’d done something shady. She didn’t have a choice. She had to tell the truth and hope for the best.
“I’m beginning to worry,” he said. “Perhaps I should summon a medic.”
“No!” Cara extended one hand, stopping just shy of touching him. “I need your help. I think I’m in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“First, promise you’ll listen before you make up your mind. I’m not a liar—I swear it.”
Jaxen didn’t hesitate. “I promise. You can trust me.”
Cara swallowed hard and unwrapped her bundle, revealing what lay inside. “I found this under my pillow. I didn’t take it. Someone must’ve put it there to make me look guilty.”
Jaxen’s brows rose up the length of his forehead. “Who would do that?”
“Who wouldn’t?” she asked. “Half the Aegis wants me gone.”
He glanced at the sanitation chute and back to her. “And you were about to destroy it?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I didn’t know what else to do. I was afraid no one would believe me.”
For the next few moments, Jaxen said nothing. Then he held out his palm. “Give it to me. I’ll turn it in to the headmaster. That will settle the matter.”
“But what’ll you say when he asks where you found it?” L’eihrs couldn’t lie through Silent Speech.
Jaxen took the tablet from her. “The headmaster doesn’t question me. I answer to none but Alona.”
Cara averted her eyes and thanked him. She hadn’t expected him to believe her.
Using an index finger, Jaxen tipped up her chin. “You’re welcome. I want you to come to me if this happens again.” His touch made her uneasy, but she held still. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He released her and gestured toward the cafeteria. “I’ll take care of this. Go shower and calm yourself.”
As he strode away, Cara tried to pinpoint why her stomach was still turning somersaults. She’d discovered the tablet in plenty of time and had managed to dodge a potential death sentence. She should feel ten pounds lighter, not weighed down by dread.
It wasn’t until she reached the showers that the reason for her unease became clear: she now owed Jaxen her life, and deep down, she knew he’d ask for something in return. But what would he want from her, and when?
Chapter Seven
“I’ll bet it was Jaxen.” Aelyx climbed into bed, nearer to Cara’s image. He wished he could pull her safely beneath the covers and wrap her in his arms. “It’s too convenient that he came to your rescue at the last minute. Why wasn’t he in the dining hall with the assembly?”
“I don’t know.” Cara sat cross-legged atop her own bed, finger-combing her loose red waves of hair. “But Jaxen likes humans. He doesn’t have a motive to hurt me. I mean, I don’t really trust him, but—”
“Good. You shouldn’t.” Jaxen wanted Cara for himself—Aelyx had felt it weeks ago when he’d engaged in Silent Speech with the bastard. What better way to win Cara’s affections than to become her savior? Aelyx wasn’t there to intervene, and no one would question a member of The Way. “I don’t know him well, but there’s something—”
“Different about him,” Cara finished. “Yeah, I get that, too.” She twisted her hair behind her head and pinned it in place. “Which Aegis did he grow up in? Nobody here knows.”
Aelyx shrugged. He didn’t want to talk a
bout Jaxen anymore. “You need to recalibrate your keypad so only you and Elle can get inside.”
“I did.”
“Try again. And make sure you’re never alone.” Jaxen would certainly try to put Cara in his debt again. “You need a constant alibi—someone like Elle who can use Silent Speech to confirm your innocence.”
Cara began chewing her thumbnail. “I knew living here would be an adjustment, but I wasn’t expecting anything like this.” With a sigh, she pulled her pillow into her lap and curled around it. “I mean, a constant alibi? Is this my life now?”
“No.” Aelyx couldn’t let her think that way. His greatest fear was that she might change her mind and return to Earth. “This is only temporary. Once we’re on the colony, everything will change. You’ll see.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I understand how you feel,” he said. “I’m under constant guard. They don’t even let the L’annabes near me.” Not that he objected to that decision. “Every day it’s a new city, but I don’t get to see much. Syrine and I just sit in our hotel all night.”
A shadow passed over Cara’s face. “So you spend every spare minute together?”
Before he could answer, Syrine knocked twice and opened the bedroom door, bringing with her the smell of charred beef from the kitchen. She announced in their native language, “Our l’ina is ready,” before noticing Cara’s hologram and switching to English. “Oh, I’m sorry. Hello, Cah-ra. How are you enjoying L’eihr?”
“It’s fantastic,” Cara said tightly.
Syrine backed out of the room and told Aelyx she’d keep his plate warm until he was finished with his call. Once she left, Cara turned her glare on him.
“Syrine made l’ina for you?” she asked.
“If you can call it that,” he said. “She does the best she can with local ingredients…” He trailed off when he realized Cara had interpreted Syrine’s words. “Hey, your L’eihr is improving!”
“Since when?”
He didn’t understand. “Since when is your L’eihr improving?”
“Since when,” Cara said as if he were obtuse, “does she cook for you?”
“I don’t know.” Aelyx counted the nights since Syrine’s visit to the children’s hospital. “For the past two days, I suppose.” She’d insisted on serving him l’ina both nights in an obvious effort to “extend the olive branch,” as humans said. He’d forced himself to choke down her meals in the interest of rebuilding their friendship, but it wasn’t easy.
“Why does she do that?” Cara asked.
“It’s a peace offering. Either that, or she’s trying to kill me,” he teased. “Her cooking is only marginally better than yours.”
Cara sputtered, unable to speak, until her mouth dropped into a pink oval and held there.
What? Had he said something wrong? Cara loved to joke about her horrible culinary skills. “You said your flatbread could end life on Earth.”
She didn’t laugh as he’d expected. Redness rose in her cheeks, continuing all the way to her hairline. She clenched her jaw and ground out, “I’ve got to go,” then disconnected. He tried to summon her again, but she denied the transmission.
Great bleeding gods, what had he done?
Aelyx didn’t pretend to comprehend the workings of the human female mind. He closed his eyes and replayed their conversation, which seemed to have gone awry when Syrine announced dinner was ready. Could that be it? Was Cara threatened because another female had offered him a meal? That seemed ridiculous, even for a human, but what did he know?
He decided to ask David.
Aelyx found his bodyguard in the living area, sitting by an open window on a chair he’d dragged over from the dining room. An icy breeze swirled through the penthouse as David used a magazine to fan a light haze of smoke outside. Smiling, the boy nodded toward Syrine in the kitchen and whispered, “At least she didn’t set off the fire alarm this time.”
Syrine peeked her head through the doorway and caught Aelyx’s eye. I’ll bring your l’ina to the table. I think I finally got it right!
Aelyx smiled, to match her excitement, while his heart sank. Judging by the smell, she hadn’t “gotten it right” at all.
David tried to hide a chuckle. “I don’t know whether to pity you or hate you.”
“Hate me?” Aelyx asked as he took a seat in front of the coffee table. “I should share my supper with you. Then you’d know where to direct your loathing.”
“Yeah, last night’s dinner looked like charcoal briquettes,” David said. “But damn, man. Look how many chicks fall at your feet.” He listed them on his fingers. “You’ve got Cara waiting on L’eihr; Syrine busting her cute little butt in the kitchen; and on any given day, a hundred groupies sending you their panties.” He pointed to a postal delivery crate, piled high with envelopes and packages. “And I’d know—I screen the mail.”
“Really?” Underwear as a form of correspondence? Human behavior truly confounded him sometimes. “Thanks for reminding me why I don’t read fan letters.” Aelyx hooked a thumb toward the kitchen. “As for Syrine, we’re friends. And barely that.”
David stopped waving his magazine, his face brightening. “You sure?”
“Completely.” Aelyx tapped the side of his head. “We communicate from here, remember? She thinks of me as a brother. I’d sense it if she felt differently.”
“Huh. You don’t say…” David tipped his head, appraising Syrine as she crossed the room with a plate balanced on her forearm and utensils in both hands.
Aelyx recognized the glazed-over look in his friend’s eyes. “Save your efforts,” he whispered. “She hates humans.”
David continued watching her as a crooked grin tugged at his mouth. “That’s because she doesn’t know me yet. Just wait till I unleash my charm.”
The boy’s unfailing confidence reminded Aelyx of why he’d wandered out here. “Can I ask you something? You seem to know a lot about females.”
“Yeah,” David said with a smirk. “And the first thing I can tell you is they don’t like being called females. Just say girls.”
“Okay, then. Girls.” Aelyx took the plate Syrine offered and thanked her. “I think Cara’s angry with me, but I’m not sure why.” He used his fork to poke at a chunk of blackened meat. “She kept asking why Syrine was cooking for me. Could that be it?”
David snorted a condescending laugh, making Aelyx regret that he’d asked. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Of course she’s mad.” David softened his tone and pointed at the mail crate. “Dude, women send you more than lacy thongs. You got six marriage proposals and a dozen abduction requests last week. Your girlfriend is on another planet while you’re here—surrounded by horny chicks—and now the girl you’re living with is making you dinner. Can you blame Cara for feeling insecure?”
Aelyx hadn’t thought of it that way, but when he considered David’s argument, he guessed he understood how Cara felt. But she didn’t have any competition for his heart. How could he make her see that?
“It doesn’t help that Syrine’s beautiful,” David added with a grin at the object of his unrequited infatuation. “She’d make any girl jealous.”
Syrine rolled her eyes and locked gazes with Aelyx. Does it really upset Cara that I prepare meals for us? What an odd reaction. How else does she expect us to eat?
Aelyx tried to block his thoughts, but a swirl of malodorous steam wafted up from his plate and turned his stomach. Unbidden, his distaste flowed into Syrine’s mind.
Oh, gods. Her eyes flew wide. You hate my supper! You’ve only been eating it to appease me! Without giving him a chance to explain, she grabbed the plate from his lap and retreated to the kitchen, muttering something about ordering takeout.
David let out a low whistle. “You may not know much about girls, but you’re an expert at pissing them off. What just happened?”
Aelyx threw his hands up in frustration. “I was honest.”
> “Ouch,” David said, then sucked a breath through his teeth. “That’s the second thing you need to learn about relationships. Telling the truth is overrated.”
In a way, Aelyx agreed. If he’d lied to protect Syrine’s feelings, he would have spared both of them the awkwardness to follow. But deception tended to compound his problems. The conspiracy to end the alliance had cost Eron his life.
David was wrong. In Aelyx’s experience, the truth was underrated.
“I’d better go talk to her,” Aelyx said.
“Good luck.” David resumed fanning smoke out the window. “Oh, and by the way.” He glanced at the postal bin. “You should read those. I mean, some of the letters are creepy, but you get nice ones, too.” He shrugged. “It could make good PR for you to reach out to your fans while we’re still on tour.”
Aelyx supposed that David had a point. “I’ll go through them later.”
He made his way to the kitchen and found Syrine elbow-deep in a suds-filled sink, not washing or rinsing dishes, just staring at the bubbles. When she didn’t move, he cleared a spot nearby and sat on the countertop.
“These are primitive appliances,” he said, pointing one booted toe at the stove. “And unfamiliar ingredients. You did a far better job than I could have. I’ve never managed to prepare anything more sophisticated than toast.”
She replied with a grunt and snatched a washrag from beside him.
“The meat here is dense,” he said. “It cooks differently.”
“Not that differently,” she finally replied, scrubbing an item beneath the water’s surface.
“But all skills take time to master.” He used a comparison to make her understand. “Would you expect Cara or her brother to braise a flawless roast in our Aegis kitchen?”
Syrine scoffed. “Of course not. They’re human.”
“You’re missing the point. If cooking makes you happy, then keep practicing. But don’t do it for me.”
She stared into the sink. “I thought it would be a nice gesture. Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered.”