“Now I know you’re in shock,” he teased lightly, dipping his head so that she was forced to look at him instead of her lap like she had been. “You didn’t put up a fight just now.”
Realizing he was referencing helping her to the bed, she grunted and rolled her eyes for good measure. The corner of her mouth turned up, and she found even with everything going on, her smile was real.
“I don’t really like getting help,” she told him with a single shoulder shrug. “It’s a personality flaw of mine.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “Along with stubbornness, and a poor temper.”
“Jeez,” she drawled, “tell me how you really feel, why don’t you?”
It was meant as a joke, but he took it seriously, the easy playfulness dropping away as quickly as it’d come. He stiffened, suddenly seeming like a tree in front of her.
“I feel like what I did to you is unforgivable,” he said.
He smelled like firewood, the kind that had been lit for a good while. Immediately she pictured the dying days of summer, those chilly nights when fall began to rear its head, and sweaters and bonfires abounded.
When their current positions started to make her uncomfortable, she bolted to her feet so fast, Ruckus needed to backtrack a few steps to avoid her slamming into him. She was already turning away, though, pacing the room, her hands on her hips.
“What do they want me to do?” she asked, barreling on when his eyes widened. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it, but then I get to go home, right?”
He nodded.
“You’re telling me the truth, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Delaney.” He gave her a comforting half smile. “You’re very brave…”
“For a human,” she filled in the blank he’d left open.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Yes. There’s that.”
“Okay.” She waved at him. “Tell me what it is I’m supposed to do.”
“Simple,” he said, his tone hinting that what he was about to say was anything but. “Convince the world that you are Lissa Olena.”
She paused. “Oh, is that all?”
“Particularly”—he clenched his fists at his sides so hard, his knuckles turned bone white—“Zane Trystan.”
“He’s still here?” she said breathlessly. For some reason she’d thought he’d gone. He’d gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? Meeting her on the ship. He’d seen with his own eyes that they had Olena. Unless …
“Did he suspect something?”
“I don’t think so,” he assured her.
“Then what’s he still doing here?”
“Apparently his father, Rex Hortan End—”
“His dad’s name is Hortan?” she interrupted.
“Yes.” He angled his head. “Why?”
“Nothing.” She licked her lips. “It’s just a stupid name, that’s all. Not very intimidating, if you know what I mean.”
“No, I do not know what you mean, because I’ve actually met him.” He was in front of her again in half a second. “Promise me you won’t underestimate him. That you’ll avoid him. He isn’t here, and there’s no reason for him to come for a visit. Don’t mention his name to anyone, and hopefully he won’t find a reason to come.”
She was on board with that plan. The less alien royalty she had to deal with, the better. She’d already hit her limit with Trystan; the last thing she wanted to do was meet the man who’d raised that.
Seeing that she understood, he stepped back.
“You feel responsible for me,” she said, just coming to the conclusion herself, “don’t you?”
“I have a responsibility as the man who took you to ensure your safe return,” he replied.
“So I’m a responsibility.” She nodded to herself and then continued before he could misunderstand her meaning. “That’s good. Soldiers take their responsibilities very seriously. At least, the ones back on Earth do.” This time it was a question, and one she let linger in her eyes when she set them on him.
“I’m an Ander, Delaney,” he told her in a steady voice. “That’s a commander. And more than that, I’m the Ander put in charge of Lissa Olena. I’ve been the Ander in charge of her since before she left for Earth.”
All she wanted to do right now was curl up into a ball and have a complete meltdown, but where would that get her? Certainly not back home. So, she’d suck it up, try to do what she was told, and hopefully be out of here in …
“They can’t keep me here forever; that’s hardly a solution. And I doubt they’ve got enough confidence in me, a stranger, to be under the assumption I’ll be able to pull this off for long.”
“The Basileus has ordered another search team back to Earth. Fortunately, the device was a prototype, and therefore only works once. She used it up on you, so there won’t be any more decoys for her to hide behind. They’ll find her, discreetly, and bring her back. Once they do, you’ll be free to go home.”
“And what about”—she waved a hand in front of her face—“this? I really don’t want to spend the rest of my life looking like her royal bitchness.” Not to mention the fact that the thought of looking into a mirror again still made her queasy.
“Gibus is working on that now. He’s confident he’ll have a solution within a week.”
Okay, so that wasn’t too bad. They could find the real Olena in a week, couldn’t they? It’s not like there were many places for her to hide.
Only an entire damn planet.
“Delaney?” Ruckus rested a hand on her arm to steady her. “You’ve gone pale. What were you just thinking?”
“How long do you think it’ll take for them to find her?” she demanded. “You said it took you a week? And you actually know her. How are they supposed to find her, Ruckus? And if you’re the best, why aren’t you going with them?”
“My leaving would be suspicious,” he admitted. “I told you. I’ve been with the Lissa for many years. There is no good enough lie to tell that would convince the Zane that I needed to return to Earth when you’re already here.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing.” She stabbed her finger at the center of her chest. “I’m here.”
“He doesn’t know that, Delaney.” His expression hardened. “And he’s not going to. You understand what that would mean, don’t you? If he were to find out? It wouldn’t just mean war for my race, but yours as well. The Kints won’t stop until they’ve got earthlings on their knees. Right now the Vakar are the only thing standing between you and slavery. Playing along benefits your kind just as much as it does mine.”
“So,” she said, and took a deep breath, “I can either be a slave now, or a slave later?”
“Try not to look at it that way.”
“How would you look at it?” she asked. “If it were you in my shoes?”
“If it were me,” he confessed. “I would have broken down by now.” Smirking, he angled his head toward the window wall. “Or at the very least, have broken something.”
“Hulk smash.” She eyed his arms pointedly. “Makes sense.”
“I’m afraid I don’t get that reference.”
“Probably for the best.” She rubbed her face, drained.
“You’re tired,” he concluded, stepping back. “I don’t have to remind you to be respectful tomorrow, do I?”