Beauty's Beast(29)

“I didn’t do it for the alliance. I mean, I want you to fight with us, but I did it because... Oh, Alon, I can see our auras. I can see them. And...and we’re soul mates.” She blew out a breath as if relieved to get the words out.

Was she crazy? He stared in silence, waiting for the punch line, for surely this must be some kind of joke. But she said nothing more. The droplets pattered on her dark head and washed the tears from her cheeks. To the north a heavy curtain of rain approached.

He drew her up and led her to the relative shelter of the trees as the sky opened and water poured down.

Alon stopped under the outstretched branches of a large cedar tree and turned to Samantha. She trembled and he resisted the urge to draw her into the heat of his embrace. Instead he faced her head-on.

“Was that a joke?”

“No. It’s true.”

“I’m not your soul mate, Samantha.”

“But our auras...”

“Trust me. It’s some kind of trick, like this face and form.” He swept a hand over his body. “I can’t be your soul mate, Samantha.”

Her brow knit in confusion. “You can’t?”

“No. It’s not possible.”

She pulled her cloak more tightly about her shoulders and hunched against the rain that trickled from the bough above them. “I was so certain.”

“You should have asked me first. Sleeping with me was a terrible mistake.”

The rain soaked him, plastering his hair to his head and making his skin slippery. He didn’t feel the chill but noted Samantha shivering. Somehow he thought she wasn’t cold either, at least not on the outside. She stared up at him with wide, earnest eyes, and he felt his resolve weaken.

“It didn’t feel like a mistake.”

“It was. It was my job to protect you. Your family gave you to the Thunderbirds, and they gave you to me. But I failed.”

“You didn’t. I’m alive because of you.” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He read the concern in that touch.

He curled his fingers into fists as the weight of responsibility pressed down.

“With or without the other Halflings, the Ghost Children will battle, for we fight for our lives.”

Her hand slid down his arm. “Will you come with me?”

“I said I would fight. I did not say we would join your alliance. Even if I did agree, they will not accept our help.”

She stared up at him, fearing he was right. Hoping he was wrong.

Alon drew a long breath and then let it go. “Is this what you wish?”

She nodded.

“Then for you I will go.”

She bowed her head and he felt her relief wash through him, sweet and clear. He sighed, knowing he had more to tell her.

“I do not expect to survive this war, and Nagi will certainly not let you or the other Seers live. The choice will be only how we die.”

He had a choice. But by sleeping with Samantha he might have stolen hers. Naginoka grew quickly. Only three months after conception they emerged from their mothers.

He didn’t know which was worse: knowing that she might die in battle or knowing that she might die bringing his children.

* * *

Alon did all the talking. He spoke to his siblings, he spoke to his parents and finally he spoke to her. There was a formality in his voice that deadened her heart, as if what had happened by that riverside had only driven them further apart.

“My father’s jet is waiting to take us to Blake,” he said. “After we see your brother, I will bring you to your father.”

Samantha’s throat went dry as she realized that her brother and Alon would soon meet. Believing with all her heart that the Ghost Children must be included in the alliance was one thing. Trying to convince her family was quite another. She knew what they thought about Nagi’s offspring, for she had once felt the same. The prospect of their next meeting filled her with dread.

Alon narrowed his eyes at her. “Have you changed your mind, then?”

“No.” Her reply was too quick, too angry and too defensive.

He snorted.

“Did you tell your parents what happened between us?” she asked.

That brought him up short.

“No. I saw no reason to worry them further.” Alon rubbed his neck as if it hurt. “But my father seemed to sense something.”

His aura, Samantha realized. The storm had rolled past and dusk had crept in. The conditions were perfect to see auras. Had his father recognized the changes there?

“My parents will bring the others south because that is where your father is amassing the Skinwalkers. They are waiting to say their goodbyes. Are you ready?”

She nodded and they made their way to the truck through the muddy field. She walked stiffly beside him, out of sync now with his stride and his thoughts.

The open field was filled with Ghostling twins, all silent and serious. Most were dressed and in human form. But not the young ones. They stared out at Alon and Samantha with yellow golf-ball eyes, popping their jaws in distress. When she next saw them it would be on the battlefield. A shiver lifted the hairs on her neck. What would become of them all?

Samantha glanced to his parents, who waited beside the truck, standing with their hands looped about each other’s waist. Cesar and Bess seemed so comfortable together, so much in love. Above them, their auras blended and glowed.

Could they feel each other’s emotions, as well?

Samantha recalled experiencing Alon’s pleasure and how it increased her own.

“Safe journey, Night Sky Woman,” said Bess, and she kissed Samantha on both cheeks.

Cesar gave her a hug. He took the opportunity to whisper to her. “Stay with him. You both need each other now more than ever.”

She drew back, feeling slightly sick to her stomach. She belonged with her own kind. Didn’t she?

Or did she belong with her soul mate?

She looked to the truck, where Alon waited silently, hands gripping the wheel. He’d never looked more forbidding or more unhappy. Was that what this connection would bring them, duty and obligation instead of love?

Cesar and Bess saw them out and waved them away as they left the camp area and headed toward the closest airfield, where Cesar had sent one of his jets to meet them and fly them to Atlanta, Georgia. Her brother had finished up in Scottsdale, Arizona, with the Southwestern Council and was now off to persuade the Southeastern Territory to join the alliance.

Alon did not speak to her during the drive, but his aura continued to reach toward hers until the interior of the cab glowed with a soft maroon light. Samantha folded her arms across her chest and sighed. It didn’t feel like a trick.

The silence rang like a bell and filled the interior like heavy smoke. At the airfield they boarded the Falcon 900 and strapped themselves in.

Private jets were necessary for Cesar as he could not fly like his wife and children. Living a century made such luxuries possible and, according to her father, Alon’s dad was a genius at growing money. Both his parents had life expectancies of three to four hundred years, barring accidents. But Alon was the first of his kind. How long would he live?

Alon closed his eyes and dozed. His sleep was restless and full of the scent of the woman at his side. He knew what kind of a reception awaited them, and still he went because she wished it. Finally the dreams ceased and he slept deeply.

A female voice came from behind them. “Mr. Garza. Final descent.”

Samantha shifted, lifting her head from his shoulder and releasing his arm. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“I wonder what kind of a welcome my brother will give us?”

He knew. “I only know that without us they will lose.”

“Do you think Aldara has reached him yet?”

He had told her that he had sent bodyguards to her mother and his sister to Blake. He could not gauge if she was pleased or worried. Perhaps both, he mused.

“She’s with him.”

Samantha sat back in her seat as the engines roared, but he could hear her say, “I wonder how that’s going.”

“As well as our visit will go.”

Samantha’s brow furrowed.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

“More than I have ever been about anything in this world. I know the alliance needs you. We just have to convince them.”

Alon wondered what it would be like to have a woman as brave and idealistic as Samantha forever at his side. When he was with her, he almost forgot what he was. He would be wise to recall that it was common interest that bound them and not love.

He stilled, recognizing what had happened with a rising sense of dread. Samantha did not love him, but against all his better judgment and best instincts, he had somehow fallen in love with her. How pathetic.

Alon’s head dropped back against the high headrest as his eyes closed. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, trying to control the panic bubbling up inside him like poison.