Invaded (Alienated, #2)(26)

Initiate contact, Stepha ordered. Enter priority code One to ensure they assemble right away.

Aelyx did as instructed, then set his sphere on the bedside table and leaned back against the headboard he shared with Syrine. Of the six people in the room—three L’eihrs and three human soldiers—she was the only one whose anxiety matched his own. Her chest rose and fell far too quickly, the restless jiggle of her feet shaking the bed. He took her wrist and pressed two fingers against the pulse racing through her veins.

“Look at me,” he whispered. When she did, he asked, Are you all right?

Instead of speaking, she bared her consciousness to him. It didn’t take long to identify the problem. The bomb scare had done more than frighten Syrine; it had dredged up memories of the day Eron died, when she’d escaped the French guard and fled to her shuttle. Aelyx visualized her actions as if he were there, feeling the pounding of fear in her heart as she ran into the woods, the sting of tears behind her eyes, the suffocating grief of losing Eron, the only boy she’d ever loved. In the weeks that had passed, she’d grown more secure on Earth. Tonight’s attack had shattered all that.

We’ll never be safe here, she told him. I want to go home.

Close your eyes, he said. Practice your K’imsha.

He helped her lie flat and watched as she steadied her breathing. She must have succeeded in her mental exercise, because minutes later, her pulse slowed and she fell into a sleeplike trance.

“Is she okay?” David whispered.

Aelyx shrugged. “For now.” He wasn’t sure about the next time.

Soon after, his com-sphere called to him in the signature high-pitched frequency that announced a message from The Way. Aelyx moved off the bed and whispered his passkey while walking to the other side of the room. He sat in the vacant chair beside Stepha and placed the sphere on the desk in front of them.

Ten bodies flickered to life in miniature form—Jaxen and Aisly sitting in youthful contrast against eight withered Elders. Alona held up two fingers in the standard greeting and spoke for the group. “How can we assist you, brothers?”

Stepha returned the greeting. “When last we spoke, you informed me that an additional attack on our youth would terminate alliance negotiations. It grieves me to report yet another attempted murder.”

“Attempted?” Alona asked. “Are you saying the assassins were unsuccessful?”

“Thankfully, yes.” Stepha indicated the soldiers standing guard by the door. “Aelyx and Syrine are unharmed. A young guardsman—”

Alona cut him off with a flash of her palm. “Then we shall overlook it.”

Stepha’s jaw went slack, mirroring Aelyx’s shock.

Alona hadn’t conferred with her fellow Elders—she’d made up her mind in an instant, without hearing Aelyx’s pleas for mercy. This was the response he’d hoped for, but it made no sense. In his eighteen years on L’eihr, The Way had never overlooked a crime.

“I beg your pardon?” Stepha said.

“The young ones are safe,” Alona replied. “Negotiations shall continue.” She effectively dismissed them by asking, “Do you require further assistance?”

“Uh…uh,” Stepha stammered. “No.”

“May the Sacred Mother watch over and protect you.” She lifted two fingers and ended the transmission.

Aelyx and the ambassador shared a look of utter confusion.

Much like his close call with the letter bomb, Aelyx wondered if he’d imagined the entire exchange. Not that he was complaining, but why would L’eihr continue to tolerate acts of terrorism, especially if all they wanted was fresh genetic material? Human DNA was easily acquired, as were colonists.

Aelyx couldn’t help wondering if The Way wanted more from mankind than they’d originally claimed. And if that were the case, what did his people truly stand to gain from this alliance?





Chapter Eight


Babies weren’t as stinky as Cara remembered. From the top end, they smelled halfway decent.

She buried her nose in a toddler’s honey-brown curls and pulled in a sweet breath. The little guy gripped his bedrail and bounced in place, flashing a gummy smile while reaching out to her with his eyes. His thoughts were jumbled, but Cara felt his fascination with her bright orange hair, which he desperately wanted to capture between his fingers. The tiny clone was heart-meltingly cute, not to mention bright. This nursery assignment wasn’t so bad. Maybe Cara could handle kids of her own someday…like in a couple of decades.

“Cah-ra,” Elle called from the next crib. “Stop smelling that boy and come help me. This one’s sick.” She peered down the back of the child’s pants and recoiled in disgust. “From both ends.”

Cara covered her nose as the stench wafted in her direction. Never mind about the hypothetical kids. She’d let Troy carry on the Sweeney line. She glanced at the head caretaker for guidance and received an encouraging nod from the old woman.

“Poor little guy.” Cara pressed a hand to the boy’s forehead. No fever. “Do we need to quarantine him?” The Aegis had strict policies regarding contagious bugs, which made sense, considering the number of kids who lived in close quarters here.

“If it’s viral, yes. If it’s bacterial or food-borne, no.” Elle plucked something from her pocket that looked like a long white spoon wrapped in plastic. “I won’t know until I analyze his stool.”