“Hmm.” She shook her head and pointed that damned pen at him. “So many lies, Aelyx. So many secrets. How do we know you’re telling the truth now?”
“Because I have no reason to lie. I want to make up for what I’ve done—to help repair the damage I’ve caused so we can join together and—”
“Where is Cara?” Sharon interrupted.
Aelyx stared at her for a few beats, trying to discern her motive behind the asinine question. Sharon knew full well where Cara was. The whole world knew. “At this very moment? I imagine she’s in her cot, dreaming of hot fudge sundaes and debate tournaments.”
“Isn’t it true,” Sharon asked coldly, “that the other two human exchange students refused to leave Earth because they feel threatened?”
“I haven’t spoken with them, so I can’t say. But breaking the contract was their prerogative. The Elders would never force—”
“Cara was valedictorian of her class,” Sharon cut in. “Why would she leave now, four months before the end of the school year?” Sharon’s assistant handed her a piece of paper. She glanced at it and set it facedown on the sofa. “My records show that she failed to earn the credits she needed to graduate. I find it odd that such a dedicated student would simply walk away from her diploma, especially since her exchange wasn’t scheduled to begin until next fall.”
Aelyx fought to maintain a calm expression. “You’re forgetting an important detail.”
“Which is?”
“Cara and I fled her home because a riotous mob stormed the property—hours after the Patriots of Earth tortured and killed my best friend. We escaped in my shuttle and joined the main transport while her father stayed behind to distract the crowd.” Aelyx nodded toward the man. “He barely survived the attack.”
Bill spoke up from the other end of the sofa. “He’s right. Where are you going with this?”
Sharon ignored him. “But why not send Cara home the next day? It didn’t take long for the military to end the riots.”
Aelyx didn’t have an answer for that. In truth, Cara had wanted to return to Earth, but The Way insisted on sending her to L’eihr to punish him. It was one of their nonnegotiable conditions for continuing alliance talks in the wake of Eron’s murder.
“Isn’t it true,” Sharon went on, “that you kidnapped Cara to avenge your friend’s death—an eye for an eye, a life for a life? Maybe she refused to serve out the exchange, and you couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. There’s a thin line between love and obsession. Did you force her to leave with you?”
Aelyx sat bolt upright. “Of course not! I could summon her on my com-sphere right now and she’d tell you herself.”
“It’s true,” Eileen said. “We talk to her almost every—”
“Maybe,” Sharon interrupted. “But I imagine she’d say anything if she were scared enough.”
“This is ridiculous, even for you.” Aelyx should have known better than to listen to this relentless shrew. “Cara will visit Earth in the spring. Until then, the topic is closed.”
A chilling smile uncurled across Sharon’s lips. “Not quite.” She pointed her pen at the television. “A new witness has come forward. I think we deserve to hear his side of the story.”
One of the production assistants angled the television toward Aelyx and began attaching various cords to it. Then, like an image from a nightmare, Marcus Johnson’s smug face appeared onscreen, the caption below claiming, MIDTOWN ATTACK VICTIM TO SUE L’EIHRS FOR DAMAGES.
Aelyx’s body tensed and flashed white-hot. Victim? The last time he’d seen Marcus, the boy had broken half of Cara’s ribs and fractured her skull. Marcus was no victim, though Aelyx would welcome the opportunity to rectify that.
“Marcus,” Sharon said, “you were the last person to see Cara Sweeney before she disappeared. Tell us what happened.”
Marcus pressed his lips together and raked a hand through his shaggy brown hair as if traumatized. “I was patrolling the woods with my girlfriend and my buddy Eric. We saw the alien dragging Cara toward his ship. She tried fighting him off, but then he stunned her with this laser thing, and she just kind of froze up, like this.” He grimaced, tongue lolling aside, looking every bit like the imbecile he was. “Then we jumped in to help her.”
“And that’s when Aelyx attacked you?” Sharon asked.
Marcus hung his head and nodded. “He grabbed my shotgun and used it to bust my knee. The doctors say I’ll never get full use back. I lost my lacrosse scholarship—that’s why I’m suing the L’eihrs. They should have to pay for what he did.” Marcus seemed to remember the other characters in his lie. “He shot Eric. Brandi got away, but she’s real shook up. She might need therapy.”
Brandi needed therapy, all right. Anyone who would mate with Marcus Johnson was certifiably insane. Aelyx spoke while he still had the chance. “Ask Marcus why he was patrolling the woods with a firearm. He and his fellow Patriots were hunting me.” Eric had tried saving Cara, but he would never swear to it and face the Patriots’ retribution.
“So you admit to attacking Marcus?” Sharon said.
That’s when the head of PR stepped in, literally pulling the plug on the interview. His nostrils flared as he jerked each power cord from the main extension. “Check your footage at the door and get out,” the man said to Sharon. “This isn’t what we agreed to. I don’t know what you were thinking, but your career is over.”
Sharon ordered her crew to obey, and in twenty minutes they were gone without another word. Aelyx sat back and drew a deep breath, puzzling at how quickly the interview had spiraled out of control. Thank the gods it hadn’t aired live.
He was still thinking about it later that night as he plotted ways to keep Stepha from finding out. But in order to do that, he’d have to avoid using Silent Speech with the ambassador, which alone would be suspicious. Aelyx was tired of politics, public relations, and lies.
He just wanted to go home to Cara.
“You’re thinking about Cah-ra, aren’t you?” Syrine peered through his open doorway to where he lay, stretched out on his bed. “I can tell by the moronic look in your eyes.”
Aelyx turned his head. “Oh? Like the way you looked at our bodyguard tonight at supper?” He used a high-pitched voice to mimic her hilarious attempts at flirty banter. “I made iced tea, David, sweetened just the way you like it. Shall I pour you a glass, or would you rather lick each drop from my naked flesh?”
She gasped, whipping her head to check over both shoulders. Not that David spoke L’eihr. “Shut up, you fasher!”
Aelyx smiled. This was fun. He twirled a lock of hair around one finger and batted his lashes. “Oh, David, you took that bomb right into your hands. Is there anything else you’d like to get your hands on?”
She rushed inside and proceeded to beat him with an extra pillow. He couldn’t help laughing. “Guard my body, David,” he squeaked. “It’s all yours!”
“You idiot!” She pummeled him until feathers floated in the air, but she didn’t deny her attraction to the boy. There was no point. Aelyx had sensed it during Silent Speech the morning after the bomb scare.
“I told you,” Aelyx chortled, scooting aside to dodge a knee to his ribs, “he feels the same way. You should talk to him.” A tryst could be a good distraction for Syrine. “Maybe you can lure him to the colony.” He was joking, though. He knew she’d never take it that far.
Syrine made a disgusted noise from the back of her throat. “I’m not one of your hedonistic humans. Perhaps I can’t help my body’s reaction to him, but I can control whether I act on it—which I won’t!”
Aelyx used his pillow to whack her midsection. “Why fight it? You know you want him.” All teasing halted when Aelyx’s com-sphere summoned him for his nightly call with Cara. He made a reach for his bedside table. “Okay, enough,” he told Syrine.
Understanding flashed in Syrine’s eyes and a maniacal smile uncurled across her lips. She made a lightning grab at his sphere, beating him to it. “Is this what you want?” With an evil sneer, she dangled the sphere within his reach, then jerked it back. “To talk to your l’ihan?” Now it was her turn to mock him in a low, breathy voice. “Oh, Elire, I love you so! I want to make a thousand half-breed babies with you, my fiery-haired goddess!”
“Give it here,” he ordered, trying to take it by force. “This is the only time she can talk.”
Syrine hit the mattress, giggling and making kissing noises. “When can we start practicing, Caaaah-ra?”
When he couldn’t pry the sphere from Syrine’s fingers, he shouted his password and untangled himself from her limbs so Cara didn’t get the wrong idea. Cara’s image appeared upside-down on the ceiling, the far wall, the floor, as she jerked across the room with each of Syrine’s movements.
“What the hell?” Cara asked.
Syrine finally surrendered the sphere. “Hello, Cah-ra. Aelyx is simply dying to talk with you.”
Cara settled in cross-legged miniature atop Aelyx’s bedspread, taking them both in—Syrine sprawled out beside him and shaking with laughter, a few feathers in her hair, pillows strewn about. But this game wasn’t funny anymore. Syrine didn’t understand human jealousy or how easily seeds of doubt could take root in Cara’s mind.
“It’s true.” Aelyx addressed Cara but threw a sharp look at Syrine. “I can’t wait to tell you about Syrine’s new lover.”
Syrine pushed upright. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
“But you started it!”
“And I’ll finish it.”
Syrine heeded his warning and left the room without another word. She did, however, sneak in a dirty glare at him before pulling the door shut.
“Did I interrupt something?” Cara brushed off a bit of lint from her tunic in a carefree gesture, but she couldn’t disguise the irritation in her voice. “Because I can call back tomorrow if you’d rather finish your pillow fight.”
“It’s not like that.” Aelyx swept the feathers to the floor and hid the evidence, though he’d done nothing wrong.
“I don’t know,” Cara said, staring into her lap. “Syrine seems to spend a lot of time in your bedroom…when she’s not cooking for you.”
“I cook for myself now.” Though he chose not to tell her why. The government had gone to great lengths to cover up news of the bombing, and if Cara knew about the constant attempts on his life, it would only add to her worry. “Syrine and I were roommates in the Aegis, remember? We’re just starting to mend our friendship. I wish you’d trust me.”
Cara didn’t reply, but the color staining her cheeks betrayed embarrassment or shame, he couldn’t tell which.
“Elire,” he said softly, “look at me.”
She peeked at him through her lashes.
“You’re the only one I love. I’ve shown you. You’ve felt my emotions, the way I care for you so deeply it hurts. Do you remember that feeling—how strong it was?” When she nodded, he asked, “Do you think that’s changed in the last few weeks?”