Invaded (Alienated, #2)(74)



Contrary to what she’d once posted on the blog, her important work for the colony was anything but. In truth, Cara had quit trying to make the development panel see reason. The past two weeks had been a constant battle, and when the council refused to budge on the colonist requirements—lest humans “taint L’eihr progeny with inferior genetic material”—she’d issued a silent retreat. Mentally, she was tired: of fighting to preserve her basic human rights, of dodging leaders she’d sworn to obey, of hostile strangers framing her for capital offenses, of pretending it would get better with time.

Cara felt the pull of home like an irresistible force of gravity leading her back to where she belonged. She wanted to be a normal teenager again, to go to college and spend her nights reading and studying and watching Doctor Who reruns. She wanted to eat pizza and wear jeans and openly disagree with her leaders without facing an electric lash.

For the last several months, she’d carried a tremendous burden, slinging the fate of Earth across her back like Atlas—something no seventeen-year-old should have to do. Wasn’t she entitled to a break?

She thought so.

But an invisible weight crushed her chest as she stared out the port window. A life on Earth meant a future without Aelyx, something she couldn’t imagine without tears rushing her vision. Stars blurred into a wet glow, and when she blotted her eyes, a distant smudge of brilliance came into view—the angel nebula, tentacles of pink and violet stretched in triumph over the darkness.

Aelyx’s words rang in her head, so full of hope that it tightened the pressure around her lungs. Every time you see it, I want you to think of me. Soon we’ll stand together and watch the L’eihr sky from our colony. Moisture welled again in Cara’s eyes. Even if she were able to visit him, the life they had envisioned was gone, and the pain of that loss threatened to double her over.

Why couldn’t he stay on Earth for her? Didn’t he love her enough?

The travel band around her wrist buzzed an alert. It was time to board the transport and face the long, nauseating journey home. She swiped beneath her eyes and dried her tears. At least she couldn’t feel any worse.


Cara was eating those words the next morning as she hugged her chamber’s toilet receptacle and dry-heaved for the umpteenth time. She coughed and retched in vain, having long ago emptied the contents of her stomach.

Groaning, she wiped her mouth on her tunic sleeve, cursing herself for not visiting the infirmary yesterday. She had hoped to overcome speed sickness—supposedly, the whole thing was psychological—but to hell with it. Next time she’d ask for an injection the instant she stepped aboard the ship.

Wait.

She froze with her head above the toilet rim. There wouldn’t be a next time, would there? Cara’s stomach turned heavy and sank in a way that had nothing to do with nausea. This was her last voyage. She’d never again explore the wonders beyond Earth’s stratosphere, never catalog her discoveries on the colony or learn what creatures skittered beneath the crashing waves. That was almost as depressing as losing Aelyx.

Almost.

But she couldn’t think about that now, not if she wanted to survive the day. Pushing the dark thoughts from her head, she crawled to the wall, then used it to right herself. Once standing, she made her way into the hallway and hugged the corridor railing until she made it to the infirmary. She didn’t expect to find Jaxen inside waiting for her.

“It took you long enough.” Jaxen smiled, shaking his head at her. “A less stubborn girl would have taken the injection before departure.”

Cara slogged past him and collapsed onto the steely table, grateful to find it pre-warmed. She ignored Jaxen and glanced at the medic, a senior she recognized as one of Elle’s classmates. “Speed sickness,” Cara said in L’eihr. “I’m deyhdr—”

“Oddly, your stubbornness has always appealed to me,” Jaxen interrupted. “It shows mental fortitude.” He turned to the medic and locked eyes with the girl. After a few seconds of Silent Speech, the medic nodded and began gathering supplies.

“What did you tell her?” Cara eyed him suspiciously. Knowing Jaxen, he’d ordered the medic to slip her a roofie.

“Nothing of concern.” He gestured toward the girl, who filled a syringe with milky-colored fluid. “Simply to administer the standard antiemetic drug, followed by electrolytes.”

The medic wasted no time in carrying out Jaxen’s commands. Cara gritted her teeth when the needle pierced her skin, but relief was instantaneous and definitely worth the pain. The roiling inside her stomach stilled, allowing her to drink a vial of syrupy fluid. Within the span of five minutes, she felt human again.

Cara hopped down from the table, keeping hold of the ledge until her legs proved seaworthy. Or rather, spaceworthy. When her knees held firm, she thanked the medic and took a step toward the door, but then her brain spun a double pirouette, forcing her to clutch the wall.

Whoa.

Was it her imagination, or had the floor just tilted thirty degrees? She blinked a few times, and suddenly she was in Jaxen’s arms. He scooped her up like a bride and strode into the hallway as if the ship hadn’t done a reverse barrel roll.

“What just happened?” Cara rested her head against Jaxen’s chest. The act was too intimate for her liking, but her neck muscles had gone slack and left her no choice.

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