Page 13 of Blue Embers
“Can you talk about it or is it something the general public shouldn’t know yet?”
“It’s complicated is what it is. I’m not sure the general public would understand.”
“I understand complicated,” I scoffed.
“Something tells me you mean that. Does it have anything to do with your Draak friend? I’d imagine so since you decided to express your frustrations on his pendant.”
“It was a sudden burst of emotion that I regret was shown in front of you,” I said flatly, poking my noodles with my chopsticks. “You’re my employer, technically. You’re also Draakandyou’re Killian Valentyne.”
“You say that as if it has a bearing on how I’d react to your ‘sudden burst of emotion.’ Do you know or think something about me that I don’t know?”
“What would I know?”
“A historian? I’d imagine you know plenty. Humor me.”
I wasn’t usually one to step down from a challenge, especially one involving my credibility as a history buff.
“I know you’re from Kumir,” I began. “Your mother was Kumirian and so was your father’s mother, which makes you a second generation Blue Breath. You fought in two wars. The one that drove you all here and the one when you arrived. You have a past that plays into your lifestyle. I know that you left the Draakir to involve yourself with human culture in a more intimate manner. Or maybe you left because you didn’t agree with something.” I shrugged. “You told the media that you just didn’t enjoy the responsibility anymore, which seems like a very vague way of saying you were bored. I know you’re loose with your relationships and that you own three nightclubs on the east end of Wrenhil, one of them catering to the more obscure needs of its patrons. I also know that you don’t see boundaries around other people and you probably don’t even have any of your own.”
“I have boundaries,” he said with a sly grin.
“Do you? Name one.”
“Answering that question would be crossing one.”
“You’re very mysterious for someone who’s always in the spotlight. You’re someone that everyone thinks they know.”
“I pretend to be readable so I’m not. Yet another defense to protect my boundaries. You, Ms. Grant, are good, but you’re not that good. You’ve barely scratched the surface of who and what I am.”
“The surface is about as far as you’ll let anyone get, right? That’s why you don’t keep relationships.”
“How far willyoulet someone get?”
There was a pause between us when we both realized the circles we were dancing in with our words. Once we’d both caught on, we shared in a light bout of laughter. It was clear that we were both tired and neither in the traditional sense. My mind was fatigued and I could tell, behind Killian’s practiced calm, he was a bit exhausted himself. I watched him as he stirred his rice, the briefest of troubled looks flashing across his features.
“So why did you lie about being ill this morning?” he spoke as if distracting himself from his own burdens by addressing mine.
I thought about lying, but it would have been useless. I thought about denying him an answer. Truth was, I wanted to tell someone. I had no friends. No family aside for the sister lying on a hospital bed. No one to talk to about the things that truly mattered. The things that really affected me on a spiritual level.
I took a long, deep breath, which Killian noticed. Biting my tongue, I tried not to say anything that would upset me, but in truth, the entire situation upset me. The longer I hesitated to answer, however, the more Killian seemed interested. I looked up at him, grabbing his gaze with an unyielding stare of my own. At least for a while. Then I remembered why I was putting up a front in the first place.
Killian’s eyes moved down toward my chest, but not in a way that made me feel objectified. By the look on his face, it seemed as if he could hear the change in my heartbeat as my thoughts bounced indecisively.
“Your pulse is beating at a pace I can’t quite understand,” he said softly.
“That’s because I’m feeling a lot of things right now,” I said, hoping his commentary and questions would end there.
“Tell me,” he nudged further, his entire demeanor coaxing an answer out of me, little by little.
I stared at him, astounded at how much I suddenly felt like I could speak the truth. It was as if he’d burrowed gently inside my head and was comforting the anxieties that kept my voice from coming out. All pretenses started to melt away and beneath them was a heavy feeling, like my ankles had been weighted with sandbags and I’d been thrown into a river. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, every problem tangling around my thoughts like tight ropes were cutting off my circulation.
“I was visiting my sister,” I admitted. “She’s in the hospital and…” I stopped, the mere thought of saying the words making the entire situation more real. “She’s probably not going to make it much longer.”
I caught my breath, realizing my voice had broken a bit when I spoke the words. Exhaling, I started to stir my noodles with my chopsticks, but I didn’t feel like taking another bite at the moment.
“I’m sorry,” Killian said.
“Why?” I said with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood I’d suddenly soured. “You don’t know me. Why would you care?”
