Invaded

She shook her head. “You’re right. Syrine’s just a friend, and logically, I get that. But I’m in a weird place right now. I feel like an egg with a crack in my shell, and I don’t know how to hold it together.”

 

He wasn’t sure he understood, so he told her, “I miss you.”

 

That seemed to get through to her. Her face broke into a sad smile. “Me, too. More than you know. When something weird or funny happens, I look for you because you’re the first person I want to tell. But then I remember you’re not here, and it stings.” She rubbed her chest to show him. “Every single time.”

 

“I miss touching you,” he said, extending a finger as if to caress her cheek. “It’s strange to think the feel of your skin ever made me uncomfortable. Now it’s all I want.”

 

Her smile brightened. “Know what I miss most about you?” In her excitement, she didn’t wait for his answer. “Your smell.”

 

“My what?” That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He’d hoped she missed touching him, too. “That doesn’t say much about my kissing skills, does it?”

 

“You don’t need to worry about that. You’ve got skills.” She bit her lip, then added, “Mad skills.”

 

That was better. Aelyx felt himself sitting a bit taller. “But still, my scent? Of all the things to miss about me…”

 

“It’s amazing. Sweet and spicy with a dash of something else, like the way the woods smell after a long rain.” She closed her eyes and inhaled, going dreamy. Her door hissed open, but she paid no heed to whoever entered her room. “I used to wonder if all L’eihrs smelled like that, but it’s just you. I wish I had one of your shirts to sleep in. Then I could pretend you were with me.”

 

“Oh, God,” groaned a male voice from her room. “Excuse me while I puke and die.” When the male strode into view, it took Aelyx a moment to identify him as Cara’s brother. Troy had practically shaved his head. He shot Aelyx a glare and sneered, “Hey, Alex.”

 

Aelyx ignored the jab. “Did you really miss your transport?”

 

Instead of responding, Troy shoved half the contents of a nutrient pack into his mouth.

 

“Um,” Cara said, “he sort of missed it accidentally on purpose.”

 

Of course he did. Humans. “Well, I suggest you don’t miss it again. The Patriots think you’re being detained against your will, and my crisis communications specialist wants you to set the record straight.”

 

“Your crisis communications specialist?” Cara said.

 

“Don’t ask.”

 

“No worries,” Troy said. “If I miss my ship again, I might as well stay here, because my CO will put his boot down my throat.”

 

“Then I’ll make sure you forget,” Cara said, poking her brother in the arm.

 

Troy flicked the side of her head, but something poignant and bittersweet passed between them. It only lasted an instant, but Aelyx noticed. Until now, he hadn’t realized the intensity of their sibling bond, and he suddenly understood why Troy had “accidentally on purpose” missed his transport home. Cara must have been struggling to adjust to Aegis life more than she’d let on during her nightly calls. She was keeping things from him, just like he’d hidden the latest attacks from her.

 

The knowledge put a damper on the rest of their conversation, and after they disconnected, Aelyx felt the need to do more. He kept imagining how Cara would feel when her brother left on the next transport. Aelyx couldn’t be there to comfort her, but if he hurried, he might be able to send her a package on the same ship that would carry Troy to Earth. That way, she’d have something from home to soften the blow.

 

But what? Flowers wouldn’t make it past customs and Cara’s nutrition adviser wouldn’t let her have chocolate. Human females loved faceted rocks set into jewelry, but the practice was so absurd that Aelyx hated to patronize it. He needed a gift that would speak to the heart. Unfortunately, he had no experience in that area.

 

Once again, he decided to ask David for advice.

 

He stepped into the hall, finding the penthouse still and silent with nothing illuminating the darkness but a sliver of light leaking beneath the door to David’s room. Avoiding the creakiest floorboards, Aelyx crept down the hallway and knocked softly on David’s door. When he didn’t respond, Aelyx knocked again.

 

Nothing.

 

“David?” Aelyx whispered, turning the knob and slowly stepping inside. “Are you awake?” He scanned the room, taking in the neatly made bed, wooden dresser covered in sports magazines and loose change, and a small pile of dirty laundry on the floor. But no David.

 

Aelyx was about to leave when a clink sounded from the far end of the room, drawing his eye to the bathroom door, which stood slightly ajar. Through the few inches of open space, Aelyx could see part of David’s reflection in the bathroom mirror. Under any other circumstance, Aelyx would have respected the boy’s privacy and left, but what he saw in the mirror made his eyes widen and rooted his feet to the floor.

 

Below the hem of David’s T-shirt sleeve, a blue elastic band tightly encircled his bicep. Lower, in the bend of his arm, David sank a hypodermic needle into his vein and pressed the plunger with his thumb. Milky fluid disappeared from the vial into his arm, and David tightened his fist, giving a hiss of pain.

 

Aelyx was no stranger to injectables—he’d used nutrition supplements many times on Earth before he’d learned to tolerate the local food. The act of self-administering medication didn’t shock him in the least. What Aelyx found alarming was the fact that David had used a L’eihr injectable. There was no mistaking the short, sleek design, nor the symbols printed in gray on the vial.

 

Why was David using L’eihr medication, and where had he gotten it?

 

When David finished, he removed the blue elastic band and rubbed his arm to restore circulation. Then he opened the door and met Aelyx with the unmistakable open-mouthed expression of a person caught doing something wrong. They both stood there for a moment, staring at the other, David clearly calculating how much Aelyx had seen and grappling for a way to explain it.

 

Aelyx didn’t know why, but he felt the need to disclaim, “I knocked twice, but you didn’t answer.”

 

“Uh, yeah.” David kneaded his arm, his gaze flicking up and down in a warning that a lie would follow. “Sorry about that. I should’ve warned you…I’ve got diabetes, so, you know…injections and stuff. It sucks.” He quirked a smile and laughed without humor. “I’ve got track marks, but I promise I’m not a junkie.”

 

David might’ve had diabetes, but humans dispensed their own medicines for that. He wouldn’t need a L’eihr syringe to inject insulin. Aelyx liked David—had come to think of him as a friend—but he couldn’t risk his or Syrine’s safety by turning a blind eye to what he’d discovered.

 

“I’m going to give you one chance to explain,” Aelyx said. “Because I owe you my life. But if you lie to me again, the next person I talk to will be Colonel Rutter.” He tried to sound nonthreatening, but he meant every word. “Do you understand?”

 

David blanched. It was the first time Aelyx had seen him show weakness. A few seconds passed before he nodded. “Can you keep a secret?”

 

“Depends on the secret.”

 

“This job,” David said as he moved past Aelyx to shut the bedroom door, “of protecting L’eihrs? It comes with perks. But no one can find out, especially not my CO or Colonel Rutter. At best, they’d stick me behind a desk. At worst, they’d give me a medical discharge.”

 

Aelyx folded his arms and kept some distance between them. “Why?”

 

“I have a genetic disorder,” David said. “It’s degenerative and incurable. My dad had it, too.”

 

“Had it?”

 

“He died when I was a kid.”

 

“Oh.” Aelyx knew what that kind of loss could do to humans. He offered a sympathetic nod. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Thanks.” David took a seat at the foot of his bed and gazed at his folded hands as he spoke. “I always knew I was a carrier, but I hoped the disease would skip over me like it did with my grandpa. But then I started showing symptoms a couple years ago.” He glanced up at Aelyx, delivering an urgent look. “The military doesn’t know. I went to private doctors for all my treatments, because I didn’t want a discharge. I know it sounds stupid, but I kept thinking I could beat this.”

 

“It’s not stupid,” Aelyx said. His instincts told him David was being honest, and he felt a compassionate tug for the boy. “Sometimes there’s power in positive thinking.”

 

“And even greater power in L’eihr drugs.”

 

Now Aelyx understood what David meant about receiving perks. “What are you taking?”

 

“Honestly, I don’t know.” David studied the inside crook of his elbow, where his most recent wound had begun to scab over. “It’s something experimental. Diseases like mine don’t exist for you guys because of breeding, or something like that.”

 

“Selective reproduction,” Aelyx said. “Genetic disorders died out thousands of years ago, because the people carrying those anomalies weren’t permitted to pass on their DNA.” He’d always considered it a logical practice, but it occurred to Aelyx that David wouldn’t be alive if his ancestors had been banned from reproducing.

 

“Whatever’s in this stuff makes me feel like Superman.” When David glanced up again, his face was full of optimism. “I think it’s working.”

 

Aelyx hoped so. But if David had tried so hard to hide his disease, how did a L’eihr discover it, and who’d acquired the drugs from the transport?

 

David must have seen the question on Aelyx’s face. “You’re wondering how I got the meds,” he said.

 

“And who gave them to you.” Frankly, Aelyx didn’t know many L’eihrs who cared enough about humans to put forth the effort.

 

“I met one of your leaders when he came here for a World Trade meeting,” David said. “Young guy—looked kind of like you, but taller. Real friendly. He’s crazy about humans.”

 

A young male member of The Way? There was only one possibility and Aelyx didn’t like it. “Jaxen?”

 

“Yeah,” David said, wrinkling his forehead. “That sounds familiar. You know him?”

 

“Not really.” Just well enough to distrust any drugs he would give me. But as much as Aelyx wanted to warn David, speaking against The Way was treason—punishable by death. Besides, if David’s condition was fatal, the experimental medication couldn’t make it much worse.

 

“Anyway,” David said, “he was real observant. I couldn’t hide anything from him. I had the shakes one day and he noticed.” David held up a hand in demonstration, making his palm tremble. “The guy came right out and asked what disease I had. I denied it at first, but when he said he could help me, I came clean.”

 

“He must have liked you.” Or wanted something.

 

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