Midnight black eyes afire in a sun-browned face that was all sharp bones. “Because you don’t have a monster inside you.”
“Keep your promise,” he said now. “Don’t leave. Stay with me. Stay.”
His only answer was a pulse so faint, he could barely feel it.
Chapter 6
STANDING BELOW A star-filled North Dakota sky, Vasic tried and failed for the hundredth time to get to Aden or Zaira. “I can’t sense either of them,” he told Ivy where his wife stood next to him on the wide verandah both his lost squadmates had helped build.
The light above bathed the area in a gentle glow that didn’t penetrate the night darkness beyond. “I’ve never not been able to sense Aden.” The idea that his failure meant his closest friend was dead was a possibility he refused to consider.
Dark circles under the translucent copper of her eyes and lines of tension around her mouth, Ivy took the phone from her ear and thrust it into a pocket. “Sahara says Kaleb’s continuing to try, too, but he’s getting nowhere.”
That was bad. Vasic was a born teleporter and Kaleb Krychek a cardinal telekinetic who could also lock on to people rather than simply places. If the two of them couldn’t locate Aden or Zaira, no one could. “I can’t even tell if they’re together or not.” The timing of the abductions suggested the same foe at work, but they couldn’t rule out two separate actions or two separate prisons. “The Es connected to Aden and Zaira—they’re still sensing nothing?”
Ivy rubbed her face. “Yes. They’re saying it doesn’t feel like death . . . just as if they’re lost.”
Vasic had never known Aden to be lost. Even as a child, his best friend had known where he was headed, known what he wanted.
Wrapping her arms around him, warm and soft and loving, Ivy said, “Aden’s strong, resourceful, incredibly smart, and Zaira’s lethal, with a mind that thinks in ways no one can predict.” The bond between them rippled with her passionate belief. “Whatever the situation, I know those two will come out on top.”
Vasic held her tight with the single arm he possessed; Samuel Rain’s attempts at designing and building him a working prosthetic had continued to fail. Vasic could’ve halted the entire thing, but after what the brilliant robotics engineer had done to save his life, it was a small enough thing to indulge Samuel’s eccentricity and determination to succeed.
“He needs constant challenges,” Aden had said a bare week earlier, while he and Vasic were going through a martial arts training routine in the open area to the left of the verandah. “Right now, you’re it.” A small pause. “Sooner or later, he will succeed or go mad trying, so you’d better decide if you do, in fact, want a prosthetic.”
“Since I was eight years old,” Vasic said to Ivy, the side of his face pressed to the soft black of her hair, “Aden’s always been there.” A quiet rock that didn’t shift or give way no matter how vicious the deluge. “The idea of not being able to speak to him . . . I can’t process it.” Vasic had once had a death wish; it wasn’t until this instant that he understood what it must’ve done to Aden to believe he’d have to watch Vasic die.
Ivy leaned back to reach up and stroke his hair off his face, her gaze potent with emotion. “He’s your brother.” She swallowed past the thickness in her voice. “And he’s our family.”
She understood; she’d always understood. Never had she begrudged him his friendship with Aden. Never had she failed to include Aden in their new family.
Love isn’t finite, she’d told him, it is infinite and it has infinite facets.
“I love him, too,” she whispered. “Even though he’s a year younger than you, he’s like a big brother.”
“Yes.” Vasic cupped the back of her head. “Aden’s always been older than he should be.” Always carried too much weight on his shoulders.
“And Zaira.” Ivy’s hand fisted against his chest. “She plays with Rabbit, you know.”
“What?” He’d never seen the commander throw so much as a stick for his and Ivy’s pet, had always thought she was too deep in Silence to pay attention to the needs of a small white dog.
Ivy nodded against him, fine strands of her hair catching against his jacket. “I’ve seen her when she thinks no one is watching. She’ll play-fight for his stick with him, and once, I saw her give him a treat she must’ve bought herself.”
Raw hope grew in his heart, dulled only by the dark fact that both Aden and Zaira were missing. “Is she capable of breaking Silence?” He’d never forget the defiant, bruised, and bloodied girl he and Aden had first met, the girl Aden had stayed in touch with even when he and Vasic had been transferred to a training facility on a different continent.
Vasic and Aden had shared so much growing up, but Aden’s relationship with Zaira was and had always been, separate. Vasic had never questioned it, seeing it simply as Aden being Aden and keeping an eye on a member of the squad who needed it. That was before Ivy. Being bonded to an empath had given him new eyes; he’d begun to glimpse odd inconsistencies in Aden’s interactions with Zaira, things that didn’t line up with his behavior when it came to the rest of the squad.
Vasic hadn’t said anything but he hoped that his friend would find with Zaira what Vasic had found with Ivy. He wanted that for Aden, wanted him to know what it was to find home in his lover’s eyes. Even more, he wanted the laughter for Aden, the joy of figuring out how to navigate this new territory of love and affection and tactile contact that wasn’t about pain or training or anything but pleasure. The only problem Vasic had foreseen was Zaira herself—the Venetian commander had never shown any signs of desiring a life beyond Silence.
“Zaira’s shields are so strong I never pick up anything,” Ivy told him, running a hand up and down his back in a petting gesture she didn’t seem to be aware of making but that was deeply familiar to him by now. “I don’t know if she feels or even wants to feel, but anyone with the capacity to be kind to a small animal who can offer her no advantage, has a heart.” Ivy looked up, a sheen of emotion in her eyes that punched him in the heart. “She has this blunt and deeply honest way of looking at the world. No filters.”
“You’re friends,” he said, the realization a surprise.
Ivy wiped at her eyes. “Not yet, but we’re getting there. I really like her even if she keeps telling me I have the survival skills of a newborn puppy,” she added with a wet laugh. “She’s planning to teach me self-defense moves tailored to my size and weight.”
“Did you tell her I’m already giving you lessons?”
A shaky smile. “She said the things you’re teaching me are fine if I plan to grow a foot and put on ninety pounds of muscle. Otherwise, I need to move smarter and be more sneaky.”