Page 17 of Star Bright
“I wish my part of Earth had drakling fashion. I used to do what we call cosplay, but Christopher wasn’t into it so… Anyway, now I get my cape fix from virtual reality games, which is not thesame as the real-real thing.” She pursed her lips. “Although I’m betting alien tech probably has some cool games.”
“Yadira and Atsu both love to play, but drakling games tend to be very physical because of the beast.”
“Well, that explains the, um, musculature.”
“And cloaks are well suited for wings. Otherwise we rip through too many clothes.”
“Oh. I… Yes. I can see how that might be a problem too.” A faint flush brightened her cheeks as they stepped out to the patio. Only a few clouds raced across the sky, scuttled by a gusty wind. Maybe it was the cold that made her blush.
Or did she mean drakling physiques were a problem to her? She was softer than a drakling might be, but he’d felt the steady strength in her grip. He would’ve asked what she meant by that, but they both gasped as the chill surrounded them and the moment passed.
“It is quite cold here,” he noted pointlessly. “Do you need my cloak? My beast runs hot enough that I won’t die without it.”
“I mean, I covet it, but my puffy is good.” She flapped her arms to demonstrate the insulated loft of the pale purple coat that went down to her knees.
It triggered something in him. The softly rounded heft of her, surrounded by the sleek and whispery layers, and the little flutter roused his beast to a strange awareness.
Just a primitive predator-prey response, probably, brought about by the fractures to his conscious control caused by the cryo and the crash. He needed to be vigilant. He didn’t want to scare her, not after all she’d done. He would never hurt her.
But still, some part of him—a part that was not his beast, but some other compulsion—wanted to seize her and carry her away into the dark sky.
He took a long, slow breath, hoping the icy air would cool the reflex. Instead, it filled his lungs with the scent of her.
The taste of peppers and her. Caye, she’d named him.
Unaware of his inner turmoil, she was staring up. “Can you see your Skyearth from here?”
That reminder was like colliding with a mountainside. He had a home, a family, a mate.
“No.” The strain in his voice shamed him. “It’s too far.”
She must’ve heard his tense tone, because she turned her head to look at him. “Vash? Are you okay? Besides…everything, I guess.”
That startled a laugh out of him. “Besides everything, yes.”
“You laugh too, and it sounds mostly the same,” She tilted her head. “I told you I’ve been reading the handbooks, and isn’t it interesting how so many beings across the universe can be more or less compatible, at least by IDA standards?”
“The forces and atoms that created the universe are the same for all of us. So maybe those elements and dynamics make us more alike than different. Or maybe it’s just that the variances don’t matter as much as the connections.”
She gazed up at him. Though all the stars were very far away, her eyes glimmered with the tiny lights—an astronavigation chart trying to lead him…somewhere, maybe somewhere dangerous.
His breath caught again, not from the cold this time, or agitation, not even from that predatory response seeking to catch and hold the taste of her. This went past primal instinct, deeper than basic biology or chemistry, more complex—and yet also more fundamental—than atomic bonds. But all those forces seemed to crowd around the two of them like phantoms, compelling him—
No. He’d just been telling her how his job had been all about understanding and influencing invisible forces; he wasn’t going to give in to random compulsion. He had responsibilities, he had made promises, he had…problems, so many problems.He wouldnotbe inflicting those on her when she wasn’t even supposed to know about his existence.
She was still looking up at him, the starlight glimmering but a small furrow between her eyes. “Vash?”
Was that a hint of breathlessness in her too?
But he remembered what she’d told him about her companion who had made her feel foolish for wasting her time. He would not lead her on that way, not merely betraying her but letting her betray herself.
He forced himself to look away. “Shall we continue along the paths? Unless you are too cold.” Unless he became too hot…
Before he could come up with more excuses, a klaxon blared across the patio. “Vash! Darcy!” The droid’s mechanical tones crackled with urgency. “Return at once! The stasis chambers are unsealing!”
He spun on his heel, lunging three quick strides toward the building. Then glanced back.
“Go,” she said. “I’m right behind you.”
