Needless to say, Aelyx spent the rest of the afternoon alone.
At dinnertime, he prepared a bowl of lo mein noodles and settled at the dining room table with a data tablet he’d borrowed from the ambassador. While Aelyx ate, he scanned the Voyager archives for information about the life-forms they’d discovered. He’d read most of these files in past years, but perhaps he’d overlooked a crucial detail that would lead him to the identity of whoever had launched the probes.
To shorten the possibilities, he sorted the list by intelligence, which left eleven sentient species. He eliminated ten of those because their technology hadn’t advanced beyond the use of basic gear systems. The remaining race of beings had gone extinct fifty years ago from a lethal pandemic.
After an hour of research, Aelyx was no closer to solving the mystery. All that remained to explore were various academic theories on the existence of interstellar travelers. It was worth a try. His first search yielded a thesis by Larish, who believed aliens called “the Aribol” had abducted a legion of ancient humans from the Black Sea region and relocated them to L’eihr, where the soldiers had perpetuated Aelyx’s entire race. Other scholars argued that humanity traced their lineage to L’eihr. But what none of these dissertations told him were any details about the Aribol.
Did the society truly exist? And why would the Aribol send probes to investigate L’eihr if they had already been there, thousands of years ago, when they’d allegedly seeded the human battalion? Aelyx was more confused than ever. He wondered if it would seem suspicious to contact Larish for more information.
He was still debating whether to message the scholar when Syrine’s bedroom door clicked open and she drifted into view as if floating on air, an intoxicated grin dimpling her cheeks. She stopped in the kitchen to fill a glass with water, then sat opposite Aelyx at the long wooden table and rested her chin in her hand.
She sighed dreamily. “That was an amazing pear.”
“Oh?” Aelyx laughed and checked his watch. “Then why did it take three hours for you to finish it?”
Instead of blushing or stammering as he’d expected, Syrine widened her smile with a contentment that said nothing in the world could provoke her tonight. Aelyx noted the sheen in her eyes. This was no mere infatuation—she was completely smitten.
“When each bite is that heavenly,” she said, “you want to savor it as slowly as you can.”
Aelyx wrinkled his nose. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“We probably shouldn’t use Silent Speech for a while,” she added with a giggle.
“I appreciate the warning.”
He’d never seen Syrine so happy. The perpetual smile on her mouth made his own lips curve in response. He’d wanted this for her—a morsel of normalcy and comfort in the wake of Eron’s death—but still, Aelyx couldn’t stop the tentacles of envy from gripping his chest. Until today, Syrine had never kissed a boy, and now even she knew more about physical love than he did. Sometimes he worried it would never happen for him, that he and Cara were jinxed.
Syrine must have read his heart. “Only one month until you see your Elire.” Her gaze was sympathetic, even as she teased, “If you’re nice to me, I might give you some pointers.”
Laughing, Aelyx grabbed the nearest object he could reach—a cloth napkin—and threw it at Syrine’s head. “You can shove your pointers!”
David strode into the dining area, refastening a gun holster around his hips. “What’s so funny?” When he stood behind Syrine and rested both palms on her shoulders, she reached up and covered his hands with her own, not the least bit ashamed to show him affection. Aelyx attributed the uncharacteristic behavior to the rush of dopamine in her system. A post-sex haze.
“Nothing,” Aelyx said. “Did you tell Syrine the secret to your card trick?”
David dropped a kiss on top of Syrine’s head. “Nope. A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, I might want to raise the stakes and win a bet with her someday.”
“I already know your trick,” Syrine said. “And you owe me a sandwich.”
“This is true. I never flake out on a bet.” David smoothed his hands over Syrine’s upper arms, clearly reluctant to leave her. Gods, this was going to be a long, awkward month. “I’m supposed to stay with you,” David said. “I’ll call in the order and have one of the guys in the hall pick it up.” He glanced at Aelyx. “You want anything?”
Yes, he wanted Cara—alone on their colony, free from the worries of alliances and assassinations and probes. “No. Already ate.”
David started to speak, but the phone rang from his pocket, and he stepped back to answer it. At once, the smile fell from his face and he reflexively touched his arm. As the seconds passed, it became clear that the caller had delivered unpleasant news, and Aelyx suspected it had to do with David’s medical condition. He wondered if his friend had confessed his health problems to Syrine. He made a mental note to talk with David later.
“I’ve got to take this,” David said, covering the mouthpiece. “Be right back.”
After a brief kiss, David left Syrine to continue the call from his room. From the way she gazed longingly at his retreating form, you’d think they were parting for eternity instead of five minutes.
“You love him,” Aelyx said.
Syrine didn’t argue.
“Will you invite him to the colony?” Until now, he thought he’d known the answer. But perhaps he’d underestimated her level of attachment for the young man.
She shook her head and lost an inch as she sank into her chair. “No.”
“Why not?” Aelyx asked. “He’s not like other humans.”
“Yes, he is,” she said. “And this feeling”—she pressed a palm to her chest—“won’t last for him. I know how humans love. Their passion burns like a lump of sugar—quick and hot. And when the fire dies, they seek a new flame. They chase sparks instead of collecting the warmth of old embers.”
Aelyx understood her concern. He’d once read a study claiming the average American had seven mates during a lifetime. But there were always exceptions. Cara’s parents, for example. They’d married young and had never parted. And if their constant kisses and touches were any indication, their flame burned more like a centennial bulb than a sugar cube.
“You barely know him,” Aelyx said. “Why not keep an open mind?”
“I’ll keep a clear mind and enjoy the time we have left.”
Aelyx had once shared the same opinion—that pairing with a human would never last—but now he couldn’t imagine his future without Cara in it.
“I’m back, so quit talking about me.” David rejoined them and took the seat next to Syrine. He attempted a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Because that’s what I always think when you’re speaking L’eihr.”
“He’s onto us,” Aelyx said in English, sliding Syrine a mock-serious look.
Syrine grinned at her new boyfriend. “Then I suppose he’s not as stupid as I thought.”
David didn’t laugh at her joke, instead choosing to lead her to the sofa, where they gazed soulfully at each other.
Bleeding gods. It truly was going to be an awkward month.
David’s cell phone rang again. When he sat back against the cushions and tapped his screen to answer the call, Syrine nestled against him, draping an arm across his chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world. In response, he rested his cheek atop her head and pulled her tightly against him. Aelyx was no relationship expert, but they looked like a perfectly mated pair. Syrine was delusional if she thought she could enjoy the next four weeks and then simply cut ties and return home.
“Private Sharpe,” David said into the phone, followed by some indeterminate uh-huhs and mmm-hmmms. He ended the call with an abrupt, “Okay, then,” and tapped the screen.
“That was quick,” Syrine said.
“Our food’s here, but the sergeant won’t bring it to us. Something about not leaving his post. Maybe one of the guys at the door will run down and grab it.”
“I’ll ask them.” Aelyx opened the front door, expecting to find two armed soldiers flanking the entrance, but the only thing greeting him was a half-full Starbucks cup sitting by the floor mat. That was unusual. He’d never seen the men away from their station. He peered for them in both directions but the hallway appeared empty.
“Nobody’s out here,” he called to David.
“Probably a shift change,” came the reply. “Let’s just wait a minute.”
“I’ll check the stairwell,” Aelyx said. “There’s always someone posted in there.”
The front door was set to lock automatically, so Aelyx left it propped open when he stepped into the hall. As he strode down the corridor in his socks, he made a mental note to change into a clean pair when he returned to the penthouse. The sidewalks of Los Angeles were littered with contaminants, and though the carpeted hallway appeared freshly vacuumed, he knew the residents and guests tracked in all manner of filth on the bottoms of their shoes. Which was disgusting. He’d never had to worry about this on L’eihr.
He was still grumbling to himself about the city’s poor sanitation when he pushed open the stairwell door and came face-to-face with a uniformed soldier.
Only the man wasn’t a guard.
Aelyx recognized the pink keloid scar that bisected the male’s forehead, his familiar brown eyes widened in surprise. Aelyx knew this man. When someone fired a gun at your chest, you committed that face to memory.
L’eihrs were quicker than humans, but not fast enough to outrun a bullet. There was no way Aelyx could make it back to the room in time, and the soldier stood too close for him to shut the stairwell door and call for help. Luckily, the man seemed just as unprepared for this meeting as Aelyx, something he intended to use to his advantage.
While the soldier fumbled for his gun, Aelyx charged him, doing his best to build momentum as his socked feet skidded against the smooth concrete floor. When the man realized Aelyx’s plan was to knock him backward down the stairs, he released the butt of his pistol and braced for impact.
Their bodies collided with a hollow smack that told Aelyx his enemy wore a Kevlar vest—another detail that gave him an edge. The leaden vests were heavy and bulky—great for stopping a bullet, but not the best choice for hand-to-hand combat. Aelyx balled his fist and struck the sensitive area above the man’s groin, eliciting a grunt of pain. He pushed with all his strength, but his slippery socks afforded him no traction.
To keep from falling, the man gripped the metal stair rail, and Aelyx did the same. With his newly gained leverage, Aelyx drew back his head and butted the soldier’s face. He couldn’t see what he’d struck, but the crunch of bone indicated he’d broken the man’s nose. That was a good start, but the soldier didn’t need his nose to fire a gun. Aelyx had to disable him long enough to get back to the suite.
He struck the soldier inside his elbow, slackening the man’s grip on the handrail and sending him stumbling down a few stairs. Aelyx saw a way to use their sudden height difference to his advantage. Gripping both handrails, he lifted his legs and kicked the man squarely in the chest, sending him careening backward down a flight of concrete steps. Without hesitating, Aelyx turned and threw open the stairwell door, then sprinted down the hallway and back to the room.
Heart hammering against his ribs, he darted inside and slammed the suite door. He bolted the lock and shouted, “Call the guards!” to David in the next room. When Syrine came running into the foyer, Aelyx grabbed her around the waist and towed her back into the living area. “Stay away from the door.” He locked eyes with David while trying to catch his breath. “The shooter from Christmas—he’s in the stairwell. I fought him off, but he’s still armed.”
David dialed a number and tossed his cell phone to Aelyx. “When my CO picks up, tell him what you told me.” He drew his pistol. “Stay here with Aelyx,” he told Syrine. “Don’t open the door for anyone unless they say the password.”
Syrine held tightly to Aelyx’s arm. “What’s the password?”
“Pear.”
Before Aelyx could try talking him out of it, David disappeared into the hall.