Invaded (Alienated, #2)(92)

“What about the Aribol?” Cara asked. “Jaxen made it sound like we’re already at war.”

“Nonsense. His preemptive attack would have guaranteed one, but for the time being, the Aribol are not a threat.”

“And the alliance? It’s still on?”

“I’m stunned you have to ask.” Alona peered down her nose like a disapproving maiden aunt. “You are not a born L’eihr, Miss Sweeney. You owe no allegiance to The Way aside from an easily broken oath. And yet you risked your life to gather evidence to present to me. In doing so, you’ve proven yourself brave and unfailingly loyal.”

Cara felt heat creeping into her cheeks. “Thank you, but—”

“And you doubt that I would reciprocate?”

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to leave anything to chance. The stakes are too high.”

Alona seemed to turn that over in her mind. “Yes, they are.” She swept a hand, indicating her fellow Elders. “And as you see, we are now two members short of a governing body. If you’re willing to serve, I would like to offer one of those seats to you.”

Cara cocked her head as her ears warred with her brain, because what she’d heard did not compute. “You can’t mean that.”

Alona arched a brow. “Can’t I? What quality do you lack?”

“Experience, for starters.”

“Ah, well.” Alona smiled at her peers. “With the wisdom we’ve gathered over the years, we easily compensate. I feel it prudent to include a representative from the colony among us. Don’t you agree?”

Of course Cara did. A position of influence within the government would change not only her life but the lives of every human who settled on L’eihr. The responsibility would be great, but so would the rewards. “Yes, I agree, but—”

“Do you accept?”

Cara gulped a breath. Ludicrous as the offer seemed, she would be even crazier to turn it down. “I do.”

“Then yours will be among the signatures on the alliance pact.” Alona paused as if remembering something. “But first I imagine you need to see to your l’ihan.”

“Yes, thank you.” Cara pushed to standing and backed away. “Jaxen’s guards are trying to—”

She was interrupted by Satan throwing open the door. From behind him, murmurs and shouts drifted inside the room, and a creeping chill raised goose bumps along the back of Cara’s neck. She darted into the hallway in time to spot Aelyx round the corner with a lone capital guard on his heels. The overhead light glinted off the man’s iphal as he lifted it, slowing his steps to take aim.

Cara gasped so hard it stung her lungs. “Get down!”

Aelyx’s eyes met hers and flickered with recognition just before they rolled back in his head. He crashed to the floor, his body bouncing twice before it rested on the shorn carpet.

Time froze while Cara’s own heart seized inside her chest.

Aelyx was dead.

As if outside her body, Cara heard herself screaming. She shoved aside anyone in her path and ran to him. It was like a dream; she was so desperate to reach him, but invisible hands weighed her down. When she finally skidded to her knees by his side, she rolled him onto his back and checked for a pulse.

Nothing. He was gone.

“No!” She repeated it again and again in denial. It couldn’t end like this. She refused to let him go. Straddling his lifeless body, she began a set of clumsy chest compressions. Aelyx’s head lolled to the side at an awkward angle, shaking with each frenzied pump of her fists. He wouldn’t come back to her.

It wasn’t working.

Her vision blurred as sobs burned her throat. She heard herself pleading for him not to leave, while Satan wrestled the capital guard to the floor. Then a new voice broke through the haze.

“Keep doing that!” Troy shouted, pointing at her. “I’ll be right back!” He turned on his heel and sprinted down the hallway, yelling, “Make a hole!” to those in his way.

Cara leaned down and parted Aelyx’s lips to force breath into his lungs. Grunting aloud, she resumed pumping his chest. Some deep, dark place inside warned that it was over, but she couldn’t make herself stop.

The stomping of heavy boots drew Cara’s gaze upward. Troy had returned, clutching a small yellow case beneath his arm. He dropped to his knees and placed the device on the floor, then pressed the on button and untangled a set of electrodes and wires.

“Oh my God,” Cara whispered.

It was an external defibrillator. All major centers—even shopping malls—stocked them near the fire extinguishers, but she’d forgotten all about them. With new hope, her hands flew into action, lifting Aelyx’s shirt so Troy could affix the adhesive patches over his ribs and collarbone.

An automated female voice from the machine’s speaker advised, “Stand clear. Do not touch the patient.” They obeyed, and after a brief pause, she intoned, “Shock advised. Charging. Stand clear.”

Troy pressed the red shock button, and they watched Aelyx’s rib cage lift and fall. When the machine ordered another round of CPR, Cara delivered thirty quick compressions followed by two breaths. The female’s voice talked her through several more rounds as it counted down two minutes. Each second was torture. Cara felt Aelyx slipping further from her reach.