since the mail incident. Now she wasn’t only fascinated by the idea of him, but compelled by Stefan himself. Foolish Tazi, Teta Aya would’ve said, trying to understand the stars when they are beyond mortal ken.
Stefan was as unreachable as one of those cold, burning stars. And yet . . . “Why do they let you?”
“My entire town was buried by a landslide when I was a very young child,” he said at last, his tone quiet enough that it wouldn’t travel beyond their seats. “I survived by ’porting out instinctively. However, I was psychologically scarred by the resulting loss of family.” A pause. “The incident reports state I tried for hours to teleport back to get my mother and brother, only for the ’port to abort because the place I needed to go no longer existed.”
Tazia’s heart hurt for him, but he continued on before she could say anything.
“The landslide crushed our home, trapping them both under tons of dirt and rock.” No change in his tone, but she could imagine the small, scared boy he’d been, the boy trying so desperately to save those he loved.
“Psy-Med,” he added, “believes such volunteer work helps keep me stable.”
From a human, such a confession would’ve been the deepest of intimacies. From Stefan, it was an even deeper trust. Shaken, she said, “I won’t betray the confidence.”
“If I thought you would, I wouldn’t have told you.” Dark gray eyes held her own, the contact unbreakable. “You have more questions.”
“I always have more questions,” she said with an ache in her soul because that had been her father’s lament: Here comes my Tazi. What questions for me today, my daughter with her smart mind and curious spirit?
Watching her with those penetrating eyes that made her feel hunted, Stefan said, “You may ask your questions, but not here. When we are alone.”
“You might regret saying that.” This conversation, it wasn’t one she’d ever thought she’d have, not with Stefan. “You’ll be answering questions till you’re old and gray.”
“Perhaps I will prove in no way as interesting as your mechanical devices.”
Somehow, Tazia didn’t believe that.
Tapping out a request on the computer screen built into the arm of his seat when she didn’t answer, Stefan ordered them meals. “Eat as much as you can. Our meals will be erratic once we land.”
Chapter 4
They changed in the private cubicles on board the jet, getting into clothing suitable for the quake-hit region. She wore her own work boots, scuffed and comfortable, but Stefan had sourced a search and rescue uniform for her that was similar to his own. The color of sand, the thin, breathable, but tough material covered her arms and legs, providing protection from the rubble and the sun both. The lightweight jacket, worn over a T-shirt, sealed up the front, which meant she could tear it open should it get too hot.
What on her looked merely serviceable looked like a pressed military uniform on Stefan, his bearing was so erect. “Ready?” he said as soon as they’d landed and been processed through to the hot, desert land not so very far from her own.
Blowing out a breath, she nodded. “I haven’t done this before.”
“You might feel some disorientation.” He stepped close, her heart slammed into her rib cage . . . and a second later, she was being teleported for the first time in her life, the world spinning before it settled.
In the space of three heartbeats, they’d gone from a modern, gleaming airport to a village deep in the interior, where a massive quake had buried ancient and lovingly handcrafted homes the color of sunbaked mud, cracking and buckling the land in every direction.
There were no screams, no cries. Only an eerie silence as people worked with frantic hands to unearth the buried. Many had nothing but those hands, fingers bloodied and nails broken. Stefan began to lift huge chunks of material within a minute of arriving. The relief on the townspeople’s haggard faces was so visceral, it tore a hole inside of Tazia.
“Right,” she said and, dumping her gear in the same spot where Stefan had dropped his duffel, headed out to talk to the person who seemed to be coordinating the rescue efforts. The grateful local woman soon had her out fixing everything from broken pipes to checking wiring for danger, to jerry-rigging communications equipment that kept breaking down.
Only a small rescue team had made it to the village so far, the rest still en route. As a result, the available able-bodied