Coldbloods
“Something like that,” he replied softly, coming over to where I stood. Slowly, he put his arms around me. I turned my head so I could nestle into his chest.
“What are we going to do about the others?” I asked, my playful energy fading as I remembered the torture they were likely experiencing, right at this very moment. Tears pricked my eyes once more, and I snuggled into Navan’s embrace, feeling the safety of his arms around me.
It was Lazar I felt sorriest for—he was an older man, with so much to lose. How quickly could one of those devices break a man weaker than Navan? How many secrets would they reveal, if Queen Gianne played her execution trick on them? Even our tentative freedom could not be taken for granted—if they told the truth, we would all be done for.
“We’ll get them back in one piece, don’t worry,” Navan said. “They’re smart guys—they’ll figure out lies that work. They won’t give up the truth, not when they have so much to lose. That’s the thing about rebels—they have a cause.”
I smirked, picturing Navan as James Dean, his t-shirt sleeves rolled up, his hair styled back in a messy sweep.
He eyed me with curiosity. “What?”
“Reminded me of an old movie—Rebel Without a Cause?”
Navan smiled. “Don’t think it’s reached us yet. Anyway, these rebels do have a cause, and they won’t give any of us up. I promise you. They might be morons, for the most part, but I think they genuinely believe in what they’re doing here. I might not agree with it, but I have to admire their tenacity.”
As Navan dipped his head to kiss me, a loud noise pierced through the quiet. It was coming from the corner of the room, where a blue light was flashing wildly. A moment later, a holographic image of a handsome older couple popped up. One, a brown-haired woman with high cheekbones, grinned prettily, while the other, a muscular man with dark hair, showed only a close-lipped smile. Above them, the words Incoming Call blinked on and off in bold white lettering.
“Navan? It’s your mother and father,” the woman’s voice said.
Breaking away from me, Navan stormed across the room to where the holographic comm device sat, and punched the blue button so hard I thought he might break it. With a whoosh, the holographic image disappeared, leaving only the blank wall behind it. The Idraxes had gone.
He punched another button on the device, every light on the machine sputtering out as he powered it down. Now there was no way for his parents to get through.
I frowned as he returned to me with a face like thunder. What was it about his parents, his father especially, that he hated so much? I knew about his sister, Naya, and the terrible way in which she had died. His father had been responsible for that, after concocting the damaging elixir intended for Ronad that had ended up in Naya’s system, killing her. It was enough to scar any man for life, and keep him at a distance from such a person. But, despite the reasoning behind it, Jareth Idrax had never intended to kill anyone. He had been worried about keeping up appearances, and it had resulted in a tragic accident that had no doubt scarred Jareth and his wife, too.
No, there had to be something more to Navan’s dislike—I could sense it.
“Why do you despise them so much?” I asked.
“I told you about my sister,” he muttered, his eyes flashing with hurt.
“I remember every word,” I promised, “but there must be something else to it. What your father did was wrong and terrible, but it was an accident. An awful accident.”
Navan’s face turned sour. “You’re siding with my father?”
“Of course not!” I said. “I think what he did was awful under any circumstances. He should have let your sister and Ronad be, but that doesn’t change what happened. It’s just that… Well, your hatred for him now seems to be as fresh as if something awful had just happened, and I don’t understand why.”
For a long time, Navan said nothing, just stared at the opposite wall. Finally, he replied, “That man has ruled my life for too long. Throughout my childhood, my adolescence, my adulthood, he has always been there, lording his superiority over me, cracking the whip to make me like him… to make me better, always better. Not long ago, it got to the point where I felt like my life wasn’t my own anymore. I was a puppet, and he was pulling the strings.” He paced in front of me, avoiding looking me in the eyes. I was proud of him for saying this much, given that he wasn’t usually one for big displays of feeling or sharing.
“What did he do?” I asked.
Navan sighed. “My parents have always had ‘ideas’ about us all. Everything has to be set out, planned down to the tiniest thing. In their minds, nothing can be left to chance. After the incident with Ronad and Naya, they went into some sort of crazy parent mode. They didn’t want any of us choosing partners for ourselves, since apparently we could no longer be trusted. It was either do as they say, or stay a bachelor, basically.” He scowled, shaking his head.
I frowned, hoping he hadn’t chosen the former. I’d never heard him mention a girlfriend back home on Vysanthe, but then again, I’d never asked about one either.
No, I told myself, he would have told you if he had a girlfriend here. He wouldn’t have kept that from you. Looking into his earnest eyes, I knew it was true—he wouldn’t deceive me.
“Couldn’t you talk to them, and just… explain?” I asked, wanting to switch my line of thought. If there had been a chance he was seeing someone else, this was the moment he would have come out with it.
Navan exhaled, running a hand down his tired face. “Riley, I’m tired and really don’t want to talk any more about my parents now. I’ve been through enough for one day. Let’s just… enjoy this time we have together.”
“Of course. I’m sorry,” I said, beckoning for him to join me on the bed. There were two of them in the room, but there was no way I was sleeping alone tonight.
He stood in front of me, cupping my face in his hands, my chin tilted upward so our eyes were locked in a steady gaze.
But I could barely focus on his eyes. By the faraway look on his face, I guessed he couldn’t focus on mine either. There was just too much at stake here. One false move and the whole house of cards would come tumbling down.
“What if an interrogator manages to crack one of the guys? Or kills them?” I asked. “Do you think Orion would listen to us, or do you think he’d just activate the implant and take me out of the equation?”
With a sigh, Navan sat down on the bed with me and put his arm around my shoulder, leaning his head against mine. “I don’t know, Riley. I just know I have to do whatever it takes to stop him from activating that thing,” he said bitterly, his fingers tracing the curve of my neck, where Orion had implanted the chip.
“But what can we do?” I mused, thinking about the mission brief. We were supposed to find weaknesses in the queendom and send information back to the rebel base. We were supposed to send her on a wild-goose chase. “When we see the queen again, we can’t leave it up to the rest of the crew. You’re going to have to tell her where the rebel base is.”
Navan looked shocked. “I can’t tell—” he began, but I cut him off, realizing he’d misunderstood.
“The rebel base, a year away from here,” I said, reminding him of the ruse. “If the others haven’t told her yet, then what does it matter if you tell her? She’ll likely go and look at the outpost first, anyway, seeing as that’s only a week or so away. That buys us time. Besides, you can always explain that your rebels have more information she might be interested in—I’m sure they can come up with something juicy,” I said, giving him a knowing look.
A half smile passed across Navan’s lips. “Maybe you’re right. I wouldn’t be surprised if she sent teams to both, to scope out the area. A year is a pretty long time, though,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to be one of the poor bastards who gets that job.”
I nodded. “Maybe you should speak with Aurelius tomorrow, get a better idea of how the others are,” I said, knowing the half-winged advisor might be the perfe
ct source of information, where Queen Gianne and the queendom were concerned.
Navan smiled. “Also a good idea,” he replied, twisting a strand of my hair between his fingertips. “I’d like to show you the Observatory too.”
“Sounds interesting,” I said, still a little nervous about the idea of walking around Vysanthe, with coldbloods at every turn. I leaned my forehead against Navan’s, letting our breaths mingle together. “You know, I’m almost glad that I’m here—with you. Even if it means…”
“Don’t, Riley. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you,” Navan breathed, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. He pressed his lips to mine in a kiss that was slow and sweet, before he pulled back to look into my eyes. “We should get some rest for tomorrow,” he said, his voice a little stronger, and I nodded.
Exhausted, I didn’t bother to change out of my clothes from the ship as I slipped under the covers. Navan took off his shirt, and my gaze traced his bare back.
“I’ve always been curious about your wings,” I said shyly. “How do they feel? Could you…?”
A smirk returned to Navan’s lips as he unfurled his dark wings in a gust of air, and joined me in the bed. He pulled me into the comfort of his arms and enveloped us in his wings. I felt their strangely smooth surface against my skin as I drifted off.
At least for tonight, I could sleep well.
Chapter Nineteen
An icy dawn rose over Vysanthe, cold light glancing in through the narrow slats that served as windows. I awoke, smiling at the blanket of wings that enveloped me, only to jolt a moment later at the sight of Aurelius standing at the foot of the bed.
“The queen wishes to see you in her garden,” he announced, at least having the decency to avert his gaze. I shuddered as I wondered how long he’d been standing there, watching us sleep.
Navan stirred, sitting bolt upright when his eyes settled on Aurelius. “Ever heard of knocking?” he growled, running a weary hand through his hair.
“I’ll wait outside while you make yourself presentable,” Aurelius said crisply, before turning and heading out the door.
Standing, Navan folded away his wings, before pulling on the black t-shirt he had cast aside the night before. I was still fully dressed, though sleeping in the clothes from the ship had left me feeling dirty and uncomfortable. Walking over to the wardrobe that stood beside the twin beds, I opened it and took a look inside.
The clothes weren’t quite in keeping with human fashion, but they weren’t that much different than what I was used to. I picked out a cream-colored sweater, made from the softest material I had ever felt, hastily took off the t-shirt I was wearing and pulled it on. I couldn’t help but wonder what it might be made from—spun material from the backside of some savage, fanged creature, maybe? Pushing the thought away, I looked down at myself, liking the way the sweater looked. The jeans would have to wait, but even a fresh top made me feel better—less sticky and gross, at least.
“You should grab a jacket, too,” Navan suggested, coming over to pick out a huge furry coat. He draped it around my shoulders, and I pulled a face. It looked like there was a dead animal hanging on my back—which, I supposed, there was. Only, from the limp fur and strange flaps that looked like ears, it seemed like it had been killed mere seconds ago.
“I can’t wear this,” I said sadly, realizing the remnants of a fluffy tail were hanging down one lapel.
Navan shrugged. “It’s either this, or you freeze.”
Not exactly thrilled with my new attire, I kept it on as we left our quarters and followed Aurelius to the same elevator we had used the previous day. This time, however, the elevator didn’t seem to go down, as I’d expected. Instead, it zipped horizontally, the force still brutal against my human skin.
It stopped abruptly, causing me to stumble forward. Navan caught me by the waist, his reflexes sharp.
“Everything’s so much more violent here,” I breathed, regaining my composure, knowing I hadn’t seen the half of it.
“You’re not wrong,” he muttered.
The doors of the elevator slid open onto a wide, open courtyard, a blast of biting wind gusting in, nipping at my cheeks. Instantly, I felt glad to have the furry coat, which was keeping out most of the icy wind. Not all, but most. At least I wouldn’t be a shivering wreck when I was brought before the queen this time.
The courtyard itself was empty, save for a bare, skeletal tree that rose up in the center, its bark a jet black, streaked through with veins of pure white. It was strangely beautiful, its clawed branches curving skyward. Overhead, the sky itself was a silvery gray, with deep purple clouds swirling menacingly in wispy clusters. In the air, I could smell the metallic scent of ozone, like the atmosphere before a storm. I wondered if the scent, so close to the tang of blood, was always there.
We hurried after Aurelius, who was walking remarkably quickly. Passing through the courtyard, we reached a covered walkway that reminded me of church cloisters, the stonework a gleaming gray marble. Nothing grew here, except the odd twisting vine bearing the petals of a black flower or two, or bunches of vibrant red berries. Against the biting wind and the grim weather, I was surprised that even they had found the audacity to flourish here.
Before long, we reached a tall set of stone doors, embedded within a large building that looked somewhat cathedral-like in its grandeur, stained-glass windows glinting in the white sunlight. At the entrance, two guards wielded spears; their faces were streaked black and red, as the Impalers’ had been. They nodded to Aurelius, saying nothing to Navan and me as the wizened old man, his half-wing dangling down limply, ushered us inside.
Beyond the vast doors lay a botanical garden, and the scent of unusual and exotic blooms bombarded my nostrils. A fine spray of water jetted out from the sides of the stone walls every few minutes, the mist floating down to rest on the flowers beneath.
Everything about Vysanthe felt gloomy and cold, but not this place. Here, there were flowers and bushes and trees of all shapes, sizes, and colors. I noticed a rosebush nearby, harboring the most beautiful rusty-orange roses I had ever seen, though the sight of them threw me for a second—how did they come to have roses on Vysanthe? Did they grow elsewhere in the universe? Apparently so…
Queen Gianne was standing at the far end of the gigantic space, tending to a tree that bore a lurid blue fruit on its branches. Her copper hair was tied up out of her face, her silver eyes focused on the task at hand. She was collecting a small basketful of the fruits, effortlessly reaching up to pluck them off.
She turned as we approached, still holding her basket of blue fruit. “Ambrosia?” she asked, turning one around in her elegant hand, before extending it out to Navan.
Navan shook his head. “Solid food doesn’t sit well with me, Your Highness,” he said apologetically.
“Well then, perhaps your little pet might like a taste?” She smiled coldly, her eyes snapping toward me.
Again, Navan shook his head. “I don’t think her weak metabolism could take such rich flavor, Your Highness.”
I struggled not to turn to him to ask if it was okay to try. On a planet like Vysanthe, where everyone drank blood, I was going to have to eat at some point. My stomach was already rumbling, the sight of the blue fruit making my mouth water. Back at the Asterope, we still had the sachets of astronaut food, provided the guards hadn’t removed it, but I had no idea how far the Asterope was from here.
“She looks eager, does she not?” Queen Gianne remarked, coming up to me, offering the blue fruit. “Go on, have a taste.”
I didn’t feel as though I could say no. Navan might get away with refusing an offer from the queen, but an underling like me certainly couldn’t. I took the fruit from her, eyeing it closely. It looked like a small apple, though the skin was dappled with light and dark blue.
“Bite it,” Queen Gianne said.
For a moment, I felt like Snow White holding the poison apple in her hands. I could feel the burning glare of Navan beside
me, but I didn’t dare look at him. Keeping my gaze low, I bit into the fruit, feeling the juice run down my chin. Flavor burst into my mouth, awakening every sense like a firecracker going off in my head. It was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted, half sweet, half sour, the flavor vaguely similar to cream soda.
I went to take another bite, but the queen knocked it out of my hand. The barely eaten fruit rolled away across the polished flagstones, leaving a trail of blue juice on the ground.
“Enough now,” she purred. “A taste is enough, for the likes of you.”
“You are too kind, Your Highness,” I whispered, though my insides were twisted with anger and embarrassment.
She sneered. “You boys love your meek little creatures, don’t you? A pathetic specimen that won’t fight back. Shame you miss out on the fire of a real, strong female,” she mused, turning her gaze back to Navan. “And how are we this morning, Navan? I trust you slept well? It must feel good to be back on home turf again?”
“Oh, it’s always good to be home,” Navan lied. “And the room you provided was more than generous, Your Highness. I must thank you for your excellent hospitality.”
“Glad to hear it—it’s a pleasure to have my finest subjects back in the fold,” she said, turning back to the ambrosia tree. “Oh, and you’ll be pleased to know that your comrades have proven themselves to be honest, worthy citizens…” She flashed Navan a look over her shoulder. “I have released them.”
When the queen turned her back again, I looked at Navan, and together, we breathed a sigh of relief. Our team was safe, free to meet up with us in Vysanthe, so we could get this mission over and done with. The pod with my blood in it was perpetually making its way toward Vysanthe—a ticking time bomb looming above us. If we were quick, there was still more than enough time to intercept it.
“Your benevolence knows no bounds, Your Highness,” Navan said.
“I am always willing to forgive, when the mood takes me,” Queen Gianne remarked. “Your friends were fortunate that I was feeling generous. I think, perhaps, the sight of the fabled Navan Idrax had something to do with it.” She winked, turning my stomach.