Alienated

Chapter Twenty-One

Cara trudged down the steps and waved at Soldier Barry, who sat on the ground by the flagpole, his rifle resting across his lap.

“Hey,” she said, “can you take me home?” The park­ing lot was tranquil again, though the same couldn’t be said for the raging protest down the street. Her quiet, cozy bed­room beckoned, and she couldn’t wait to curl up in bed, duck beneath the covers, and try to forget what a hot mess her life had become. She wanted to feel normal, even if it only lasted for an hour.

“Yeah, we’ll leave as soon as Aelyx is ready.”

“What?” The modicum of composure she’d achieved since leaving the janitor’s closet vanished, replaced by tensed neck muscles as she glanced around for him. “He’s here?”

“Yep. Went inside right after you did. He didn’t catch you?

Catch her? That implied he cared enough to seek her out, which sure wasn’t the case these days. “No, he must’ve gone to the office.” She hated the idea of driving home trapped by Aelyx’s side. A girl could only take so much awkward. “Any chance you can drive me now?”

While Barry shook his head, something from behind her caught his attention, and he pointed to the top of the steps. “There he is.”

Don’t spin around! Stay calm. As pseudo-casually as possible, Cara glanced over her shoulder, slowly turning to face the building. Yep, it was him, all right, jogging toward her and holding her backpack.

“Hey!” She reached for her bag. “I looked everywhere for that. Where’d you find—”

Before she could get the next word out, he tossed the bag aside and scooped her into his arms, lifting her off the ground until her legs dangled like a participle. His mouth was at her ear, whispering, “Sacred Mother,” and he hugged her so tightly he may have cracked a few ribs.

Just to add to the list of things she didn’t see coming today. She pushed against him, struggling to breathe.

“Are you okay?” he asked, lowering her feet to the ground and taking her face between his palms. She pushed those away, too.

“Of course I’m okay! What’s your problem?”

“What’s my problem?” His gaze narrowed, sweeping her from head to toe. “You left me behind, Elire!” She hadn’t seen him this pissed since the day he’d nearly liberated one of Marcus’s arms from its socket. “At the most dangerous time possible!”

“Oh, so I’m Elire again?” Striding forward, she jabbed an index finger at his stone chest, but the contact sent a thrill up the length of her arm, so she dropped it to her side. “Unh-uh. You don’t get to call me that anymore. I’m Caaah-ra now, remember?”

“Blake had to stop a fight on the way to your locker, and you were gone by the time he got there. When you never made it back to the office, we went looking for you and we found this”—he snatched her backpack off the asphalt and shook it accusingly—“on the floor next to your locker with another note. What was I supposed to think?”

“Look, I’m sorry you were scared, but—”

“Scared? I was out of my mind! We tore the school apart trying to find you.” He distractedly ran his fingers through his hair and paced a circuit around her as if burning off angry energy. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“Because it’s in my bag!”

“Wh—” He froze pre-yell, probably realizing he didn’t have a counterargument for that. “Well, you know where the first place I looked was?” Aelyx stopped pacing long enough to deliver a scorching glare. “The base of the stairwell. I expected to find you there with your neck broken.”

Holding his gaze was like trying to stare at the sun—it burned an imprint of his scathing features into her mind so that she continued seeing him even after closing her eyes. She wanted to strike at Aelyx, scoop together some of the hurt and rejection he’d heaped on in the last week and throw it back in his face, so she squared her shoulders and spat, “Sorry to disappoint you!”

Her words immediately produced the desired effect. “Is that some kind of depraved joke? Because it’s not funny.”

“It’s not a joke. After the way you blew me off, I’m sur­prised you care.”

His posture sank, the muscles in his shoulders rounding forward. “I do care.”

“Whatever. You’ve been avoiding me like cholera since that day in your room.”

The crinkle of cellophane caught her attention, and for the first time since their argument began, Cara noticed they’d attracted quite the little audience. A few of Barry’s friends had joined him, sitting cross-legged on the ground and lean­ing forward in rapt attention. One soldier propped against his Hum-V was even munching popcorn from a Smartfood bag. He nodded for her to continue as if she’d pressed the pause button, and now he wanted to resume watching Romancing the Clone.

“Sorry, guys, show’s over.” There was more fighting to do—so much that the air felt thick with the weight of things they’d left unsaid—but it would have to wait. She picked up her book bag and climbed into the armored Hum-V.

When they pulled into her driveway and her knights-in-shining-Kevlar stationed themselves around the perimeter of the property, she unlocked the front door and bolted for her bedroom. She didn’t want to argue anymore.

But just as she was pushing her door shut, Aelyx wedged his foot against the doorjamb and blocked the way. Since it seemed there was no avoiding him, she turned with a resigned sigh and dropped her bag at the foot of the bed while he stepped inside. He closed and locked the door behind him while she crossed to the window.

“The reason I stayed away,” he said in a low, tentative voice, “is not what you think.”

Pushing aside the curtain, she watched two young soldiers stand guard, weapons at the ready, and wondered what the hell had happened to her life. “How would I know what to think? You wouldn’t talk to me.”

“I know. I could’ve handled that better.”

Could’ve handled that better? Was that his idea of an apology? She spun to face him. “Gee, you think?”

He splayed his hands like a beggar and sighed. “This isn’t easy for me.”

“Love’s not easy for anyone! Why do you think the divorce rate’s so high?”

“Love?” Turning to her dresser, he idly lifted the tiny por­celain pig Tori had brought back from her last trip to Peru, flashing a sideways glance and a grin that made her belly quiver. “Are you in love?”

Her whole face went up in flames. Had she really said the L word out loud? To the guy who’d dropped her like a lubricated dumbbell? “Figure of speech. I meant relationships are hard.”

He set down the pig and advanced slowly. “The way I acted ... It wasn’t you.”

“Oh, no.” She held up one finger and backed away until her bottom met the frosty windowpane. “You’re not even human. You don’t get to use the It’s not you, it’s me line!”

“Are you going to listen or not?” He took another step forward, and she inched from the window along the wall. “You were right when you said I was keeping secrets.”

Of course she was right. Aelyx was more transparent than Saran wrap. “What does that have to do with dumping me?”

“I felt guilty.” He pushed a loose tendril of hair behind his ear, drifting closer as his gaze dropped to her mouth and held there. “I couldn’t let things go any further until I was ready to tell you the truth.”

She backed into the corner, clinging to the smooth plaster while her heart raced in anticipation of his next move. “You didn’t seem so guilty when you practically tore off my jeans.”

He shrugged and offered a grin. “A testament to your superior kissing skills.” Closing the distance between them, he trailed his index finger across her collarbone and settled it at the base of her throat, where her pulse thumped wildly. “But today, after almost losing you, I made a decision.”

She swallowed. “About what?”

“You. Not to waste another second.” With his other hand, he lifted her chin, raising her face to meet his. Still watching her mouth, he whispered, “One-ten.”

She clenched her eyes shut. “You don’t get to do this.”

“What?” Lighter than a dragonfly’s breath, his lips brushed her temple. “This?” He swept a path to her ear, luring chills to the surface of her skin. “Or this?” Pulling her collar aside, he kissed her shoulder on the magical spot that made her eyes roll back in her head.

With great effort, she pushed him away. “I won’t let you mess with my head.” Or my heart. “I won’t be your interga-lactic booty call.”

He pulled back and cupped her face, his brows pinching together over narrowed chrome eyes. “That’s what you think I want?”

“How am I supposed to know? You’re running hot or cold all the time.” She freed herself and escaped to the other side of the bed. “Why don’t we back up to the part where you were ready to tell me everything?”

He hesitated but then nodded slowly and settled on the mattress. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

That was exactly what she wanted to hear, but Cara’s stomach turned cold and heavy. Nothing good ever followed those words.

An ancient human religious figure known as John the Baptist had once claimed, “The truth shall make you free,” but if Aelyx remembered correctly, John’s honesty had been rewarded with a gruesome decapitation. Aelyx hoped for better results. Before arriving on Earth, he’d had very little experience with deception. Communicating with Silent Speech had resulted in honesty by default among his people, and he’d never under­stood why humans lied so frequently. Until now.

As Cara gazed at him, those sapphire eyes brimming with doubt, only one thought repeated in his mind: will she forgive me for what I’ve done? As much as he wanted to unburden him­self with the truth, the possibility of losing his Elire left him with the nearly irresistible temptation to deceive her again.

“It’s okay.” She seemed to sense his anxiety. “You can tell me anything.”

Could he? Could he really tell her that despite Eron’s and Syrine’s decisions to uproot their sh’alear seedlings—which, due to military escorts, neither of them had accomplished yet—it still might not be enough to save the alliance?

“I’m not so sure,” he finally replied.

She softened at that, joining him on the bed. “We have to trust each other, or we’re no better than strangers.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“How about the very beginning?” With a small smile and a nudge, she added, “According to The Sound of Music, that’s a very good place to start.”

He didn’t understand the reference, but Cara was right. Yes, he could do this—tell her the truth. He needed to have faith, as humans often said. “All right, the very beginning.” He took a deep, steadying breath and let it out in a whoosh. “You asked me once why my people ended the breeding pro­gram and started cloning new generations from the archives.”

She nodded for him to go on.

“Tens of thousands of years ago, L’eihrs were like humans: volatile, greedy, destructive, selfish, violent, ruled by—”

“Enough. I get it.”

“Sorry.” He laughed, despite the tightness in his chest. “When The Way took control, they started experimenting with selective breeding. Only the fittest, most intelligent, and most emotionally stable citizens were allowed to reproduce. Over time, our technology improved, and scientists started analyzing each citizen’s genetic material and creating life in the labs using artificial wombs. They wanted to increase cognitive function and eliminate negative emotions like anger. It worked—a little too well.”

“What do you mean, a little too well?”

“You’ve met our ambassador, right?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Cara said. “At the gala.”

“Did you notice anything . . . different . . . about him?”

“Besides the fact that he’s old?” She shook her head and shrugged. “Not really.”

“He didn’t seem lethargic to you? Like a machine running on half power?”

“Oh, sure. My grandpa was like that the last few years before he died.”

“Right, but Stepha’s only fifty.”

“What?” She turned on the bed, shaking the mattress when she bounced to face him. “He looks like a relic!”

Aelyx chuckled. “I’ll tell him you said so.”

She shoved his shoulder, sending him rocking back. “So that’s what you meant about working too well? They bred the life out of themselves?”

“Pretty much. But it wasn’t until Stepha’s generation that they began to see negative effects—the depression, lethargy, decreased life span, dependence on medication. Our scien­tific advances suffered, too. Emotion is what drives creativity and discovery, and the Elders had gone too far in trying to subdue it.”

“So they backtracked using clones.”

“Exactly. But they still don’t think it’s enough.”

The skin on her forehead wrinkled into three distinct zig­zags. “What do you mean? You seem pretty normal to me. Well, now, anyway. When we first met, you kind of reminded me of a zombie.”

“A zombie?”

“You know, the walking dead.”

“But I’ve changed.” Scooting closer until the outside of their thighs touched, he took both her hands. “You brought out a lifetime of dormant feelings in me, and that’s where humans come in.” Squeezing one hand for emphasis, he added, “The Way wants to join our two societies. What’s happened with me, they want the same for the other clones, maybe even for themselves to some extent. And eventually, they want us to interbreed. That’s the real reason for the exchange program—to see if it can work long term. They want to form a colony where humans and L’eihrs can coexist.”

She tipped her head while considering what he’d said. “So it’s like an experiment? A test to see if we can play nice?”

“Basically.”

“And that’s it?”

He nodded.

“But that’s not such a big deal,” she said. “Why the guilt?”

A rush of panic surged inside him. The time had come, but could he really admit what he’d done? Would Cara for­give him when he might have doomed the future of her entire race? He wasn’t sure. His resolve faltered until the last drops of it evaporated completely. Maybe she didn’t need to know.

He could take his secret to the grave and find a way to save mankind if the alliance failed, even if he had to steal the technology and bring it back himself. But he had to tell her something—she was waiting.

“I discovered a problem,” he told her, “two weeks ago—something your government has been hiding from you for years. My ambassador asked me to keep it to myself, but I think you deserve to know.” He quickly clarified, “Only you, though. Nobody else can find out, or it would incite panic.”

While Cara pulled a pillow onto her lap and hugged it, he told her everything he’d learned about the growth particles affecting Earth’s water supply . . . with two major omissions: that mankind’s survival was contingent on the alliance and that the contamination had spread worldwide.

She sat there in silence a while, then asked, “Are you sure? I mean, I can’t believe nobody else has noticed.”

“Some humans have noticed. It’s just been covered up.” He took her hand, which had grown cold, and pressed it between both of his to warm it. “At first, I didn’t believe it, either. I took two more samples before I contacted the ambassador.”

“And you’re positive L’eihrs can fix it, right?”

“Absolutely,” he promised. “It’ll be easier than manipulat­ing the weather.”

“Are they going to start working on it soon?” With her free hand, she rubbed the cotton fabric of her pillowcase between her fingers. “Ten years might sound like a while, but why not nip it in the bud now?”

“They’ve already put together an action plan.” Which, Aelyx supposed, wasn’t a total lie. “There’s nothing to worry about, but we can’t tell anyone.” He delivered a pointed look. “You understand, right?”

“Totally.” And then she said something that twisted his heart. “You can trust me.”

If only the reverse were true.

“Wait.” There was one thing Cara didn’t understand—why did Aelyx’s guilt cause him to push her away? “In a nutshell, you blew me off because you felt horrible over a small con­tamination that L’eihrs can fix with a snap of their fingers?”

A flicker of surprise sparked behind his gaze. When he parted his lips to speak and nothing came out, she knew he was stalling for an excuse.

“Don’t,” she ordered. In the past few months, she’d sus­pected he was in trouble. What about all those trips into the woods? Maybe he’d gotten caught breaking a rule. Maybe his leaders were waiting back home with that horrible electric whip. “Tell me what’s going on. No more hiding. What did you do?”

He shook his head frantically and swore, “Nothing. I told you—

“Just stop.” She tried blocking his words with her palm. “I’m tired of your lies.”

“They’re not lies,” he argued. “Why can’t you believe me?”

“How do I know what to believe?” As long as he was keeping things from her, she had no way of trusting him or knowing how he really felt about her. If their brains were more compatible, she could delve inside his mind for the truth, but so far, all she’d managed to do was hear his painfully loud voice inside her head. That was no help to her now. “I’m not a L’eihr. I can’t just use telepathy and know what you’re thinking.”

Realization dawned in his eyes and he scooted forward, reaching for her.

She tensed. “What’re you doing?”

He took her face between his hands and refused to let go. Peering deeply at her, he whispered, “This is how I feel every time I’m with you.”

She wasn’t prepared for what came next. A split-second rush of chest-swelling desire inflated her lungs, lifting her rib cage until her body felt melded with his. Sensations of devotion and tenderness flashed through her in an instant, forcing her to exhale or burst. Every inch of her skin flashed hot and prickled into gooseflesh while her heart fluttered like hummingbird wings. Her limbs lightened, and she grasped two handfuls of his shirt to stay grounded. It was both terrify­ing and glorious in its intensity.

It was love.

The dull ache at her temples barely registered. All her doubts vanished. Oh my God, he loves me.

“You love me,” she repeated aloud. The breathy words tasted sweeter than icing on her tongue.

“Is it really that hard to believe?”

“Do it again!”

“No.” He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s your turn.”

She let out a snort that would have embarrassed her had she not just catapulted over the moon with joy. “I love you, too, but that’s pretty anticlimactic compared to Silent Speech.”

His answering smile lit him up so beautifully it almost hurt to look at him. “Not to me.”

“Then I love you.” She twirled one finger around a loose tendril of his hair and unfastened his leather cord to comb her fingers through the soft strands. “Now show me more.”

“But you might get a headache.”

She reclined against a heap of pillows and turned her body to face him. “Do it again.”

He nodded, peering deeply into her eyes while his warm breath stirred against her lips. Soon she felt the same rush of emotion as before, the same warm tingles bubbling across her flesh.

“Mmm.” Closing her eyes, she held on to the sensation, treasuring it before it melted away. “That’s worth a thousand headaches.”

When she glanced at Aelyx again, he was watching her with a new hunger that loosed a swarm of fireflies inside her belly. She’d seen that look before, and she knew what it meant. Curling one hand around his neck, she pulled him down, expecting a slow kiss. Instead, his mouth came hard against her and melted her bones.

They picked up where they’d left off weeks ago as if no time had passed, and within minutes, both their shirts lay in a heap on the floor.

She wrapped one leg around his waist and let her hands explore the smooth planes of his back, and he responded in turn, moving his palm up the length of her ribs.

His breaths were deep and shuddering now. A few moments later, he tipped their heads together, squeezed his eyes shut, and chanted, “Silicone, phosphorous, sulfur, um . . . chlorine.” Then, wrinkling his forehead in concentration, “Um . . . argon . . . um . . .”

“Potassium?” she offered, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry.” Eyes still closed, he shook his head. “We have to stop for a minute.”

“Why?”

“Because there aren’t enough elements.”

This was nothing like the times with Eric, who was always pressuring her for more. For the first time she did want more—but she wanted it with Aelyx and no one else. She’d never felt so desperate to be close to someone.

“I don’t want you to stop,” she said, then kissed his chest. “But we probably should. It’s too soon, don’t you think?”

He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and drew her nearer. “I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to think right now.”

She understood the feeling. “It’s just, I’ve never . . . uh . . .” Done this before, and I’m a little scared. Why was it so hard to say it out loud?

“Me neither.” He hesitated a moment before adding, “Do you think . . .” He met her gaze, a question in his eyes.

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Okay,” he replied simply. No pouting, no whining, no guilt trips.

God, she loved this boy. She hugged him tighter to show how much.

They lay in contented silence a while, Cara listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart and Aelyx raining occasional kisses atop her head. Eventually, the recent sleepless nights caught up with her and she drifted off, wrapped in his arms.

She dreamed of floating in black space, hand-in-hand with Aelyx as the pinpricks of distant stars winked all around them. She snapped her fingers and an angel nebula swirled into view, tentacles of twinkling light permeating the dark­ness like a glowing specter. At her command, a sleek ship appeared, a floating colossus to jettison her to a new home, but just as she reached for the hatch, a thumping echo pulled her back toward Earth. Aelyx disappeared, and then she was falling, falling, falling while the noise grew louder inside her head. Cold wind whipped her hair in her face and she spread her arms wide, watching the verdant grass rise up to meet her at a thousand feet per second.

Just before hitting the ground, she awoke with a start to the sound of her father pounding on the bedroom door and calling, “Cara?”