Invaded (Alienated, #2)(62)

“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.