Chapter 5
Qylar scanned the crowd inside the Eagle, not seeing the one face he wanted to see most. Two months had passed with no luck finding Kenji or his roommate.
He’d come to the Eagle many a night since theirs spent together.
When Qylar wasn’t there, he was visiting local bars and restaurants, trying to figure out where Kenji worked.
No one he’d asked seemed to know who he was talking about.
He was starting to believe the guy had been a figment of his imagination.
Just as he was considering calling it a night and going home alone, he thought he recognized a face. Not the one he wanted, but another that might be just as good. He sidled up beside the guy at the bar.
“Hello.”
The man spun and eyed Qylar from head to toe, a growing smile on his face. “Well, helllllo to you, too, Daddy.”
“You look familiar. Are you K—”
“If we’d met before, I’d remember it. Trust.” He leaned closer, tickling a trail up Qylar’s chest with his fingertips.
“Are you Kenji’s roommate?”
A slight frown furrowed his brow. “Yeah. Why?”
“We met here a couple of months back. Kenji and I. He left without giving me his number. I’ve been hoping to run into him again ever since.”
Kenji’s roommate leaned in closer, grinning seductively. “He left you high and dry. Bad Kenji. You can have my number if you want.”
Qylar sighed, remembering Kenji said the guy was little more than a roommate, not a friend. He could see why. “Can you give Kenji a message for me?”
The seductive act ended and fast. The roommate glared at him. “I came out to have fun. Not be your errand boy.”
“Then give me his number and I’ll message him myself.”
“Maybe he didn’t give you his number for a reason, stalker.”
“I’m no stalker.” Fuck, you’ve been sitting in this damned bar near every weekend looking for Kenji. If that’s not stalker behavior, what is?
“Give me your number… and maybe I’ll give it to him. If you’re lucky.” Kenji’s roommate pulled out his cell and swiped a thumb across to open it.
Qylar prattled off his phone number and watched the guy as he typed it in. “My name’s Qylar.”
“Nice to meet you, Qylar. I’m Tacoma, but everyone calls me Tack.” He lifted his gaze from his phone and grinned. “Remember it. You’ll be shouting it later.”
“I’m here looking for Kenji.”
Tacoma shrugged. “So?”
“I’m not going to fuck you.”
Tacoma frowned. “Your loss. I’m ten times more fun than that boring guy.”
“Will you give him my number or not?”
Tacoma glared at him. “I don’t know. You’re awfully pushy and just as boring as he is. He needs someone who can loosen him up.”
Qylar took a deep breath. He was coming on strong, but he’d been looking for weeks and frustrated.
This was the closest he’d gotten to Kenji in all that time.
He didn’t want to ruin his one good chance, so he needed to back off a bit.
“I’m sorry. I just had a lot of fun with him that night and I’m not sure why he left without saying goodbye. ”
“Oh, you’re him,” Tacoma said, eyed going wide. “The guy he stayed out with until after dawn. The one who left him sore for a week.”
Qylar winced inwardly.
Tacoma chuckled. “And here I thought you were all made up by the mind of a very, very lonely man.”
Kenji was lonely? Qylar’s chest ached even more with the need to find him. Together, they didn’t have to be lonesome.
“You left him walking funny… and from that bulge, maybe he wasn’t lying about any of it.”
“What else did he say?”
Tacoma shrugged. “Not much else. He’s not one to gossip. Sadly.”
“Please… give him my number. Let him know I want to see him again.”
“Maybe you need a bottom more your speed. One who can take a pounding.”
Qylar needed a way to ensure his number made it to Kenji. “Let me hear that from him… if he tells me I was too much for him, maybe I’ll give you a try.”
Never happening.
Tacoma grinned. “Then maybe I will give it to him. We’ll see.”
Qylar clenched his fist, frustrated that this asshole was an obstacle between him and Kenji. Or he could sit outside and follow Tacoma home. A bit stalkerish, but it would rule out the middleman. He needed a face-to-face with Kenji.
What if he goes home with someone else, though? Fuck it. I’ll sit for three days if I have to.
Seconds after paying his tab, his phone buzzed. He half assumed it was Tacoma sending him a shitty text or a dick pic, but when he lifted the screen, he found a proximity alert. Something was near the ship! Close enough there was a blurry image of something in the water.
Without another word, Qylar raced out of the bar and climbed into his truck.
He sped towards 34th Street and screeched into his driveway.
Once he’d changed out of his leathers and into a pair of swim trunks and running shoes, he snagged his waterproof backpack and was out the door.
There was no time to drive across town to get to their boat.
He ran towards the beach. When he arrived, he scanned the surf, but it was too dark to see well.
He found a spot and hoped the water wasn’t too disgusting.
Qylar waded out until it was deep enough for him to go under.
He dove under and propelled himself with as much speed as his human form could muster.
The second he was far out and deep enough, he pulled off the shoes and the trunks, stashing them into the pack.
He shifted, unfurling his limbs into massive tentacles and immediately sped towards the ship.
In his shifted form, he could travel faster than any seafaring vessel on Earth.
He reached the area the ship was hidden in within minutes.
But he feared he’d taken too long.
As he swam closer, movement in the corner of his eye pulled his attention.
A small tentacled creature floated in the shadows of the cave, smaller than a common octopus.
Yet, it was more brightly colored and had twelve tentacles.
From the coloration alone, it looked more like a Nefyrian, only tiny.
Qylar hurled himself towards it, knowing that had to be the source of the alarm.
The creature hesitated a moment before swimming with great speed, far faster than an aquatic species on Earth could possibly travel.
Possibly faster than one of his own kind.
It bypassed him, avoiding his tentacles.
Qylar gave chase, barely capable of keeping up with the little speedster.
It wove a chaotic path, zigzagging as it went, making it harder to tail him.
After a few minutes, though, the creature slowed. He appeared to be wearing out. Qylar could swim at speed for days. He only needed to bide his time and let the creature wear itself out.
But it was wily, too. It slipped through tiny crevices in the rock formations on the sea floor, ones too small for Qylar to fit through.
It darted in and out of a rusted ship’s hull before Qylar could reach it.
He refused to give up, though. Something told him it was the very same presence he’d been feeling near his ship for months.
The very thing that had set off the proximity alarm three times now. He would have answers as to who or what it was, or else.
If Cryss’s family was in danger, he was damned well going to find out from whom.
The more he chased, the slower the creature traveled.
Finally, he was able to catch up and use his superior size to grab hold.
After securing it with a thick hold, he swam back towards the ship.
It fought for freedom, wriggling in his grasp, but had little energy left.
Once they reached the ship, he swam through the water wall and dragged it inside along with him.
He slinked deeper into the craft until he reached the brig.
Tossing the creature into the center of it, he slapped the console on the wall with his tentacle.
A shimmering forcefield zipped and crackled into place.
The creature looked like it was struggling to breathe.
He inwardly frowned. It had been a minute out of the water, at most, and it struggled?
He was almost certain it was a shifter, though.
It only had to show its human form to fill its lungs.
Qylar shifted to his and glared at the creature. “Who are you?”
He got no reply… but it appeared to have stopped breathing.
Was I wrong about it? Shit!
A second before he rushed to collect some seawater, the creature transformed into a human shape and drew in a gasping breath.
Qylar’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping.
How?
The man sat curled up, knees to his chest covering his nudity.
They both stared at one another in shock—silent seconds ticking by. Qylar blinked a few times, stepping back until he hit the wall behind him.
Kenji?
A shifter?
A Nefyrian?
Maybe not. He’d been so small, but otherwise, he’d looked like one of his kind.
“Who are you?” Qylar asked again.
“You know who I am,” Kenji answered, his chest still heaving a bit.
Qylar marched closer to the forcefield. “Which house are you from?”
Kenji frowned. “House?”
“Which house?!” Qylar roared.
“I don’t know what you’re taking about!” Kenji roared back.
“Who are you working for?”
Kenji shook his head, brow furrowed. “I’m a bartender.”
“I’ve spent the last two months going to as many bars and restaurants as I can, looking for you. I haven’t found you or anyone who knew of a bartender named Kenji. Maybe because that’s a cover. Maybe you’re a spy.”
Kenji scoffed. “A spy?”
Qylar struggled to get air into his lungs.
Had he been duped and brought an enemy into his bed?
If so, he’d put Cryss, Alex, and the children in danger.
“Was your little anxious act all a game? Some weird seduction ritual you played to get into my house and root around? Or were you coming after the prince?”
“The prince?” Kenji shook his head, appearing confused. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Why have you been slinking around my ship for months now if not collecting data?”
An odd expression stretched over Kenji’s face before it shifted to a look of defiance. “I have questions, too, you know?”
“You’re not really in a position to ask, now are you?”
“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? What right do you have to imprison me? I’ve done nothing wrong!” He leapt to his feet and stepped closer to the forcefield. “No matter what you seem to think.”
“You’ve been here, watching, setting off the alarms. You have no business sneaking around my ship!” He growled under his breath. “Or my home.”
“I didn’t sneak,” Kenji snapped. “I was invited. To your home, at least.”
“Why did you run away at five in the morning, hmm? Find what you were looking for and get the hell out?”
Kenji’s eyes widened. “I woke up, and one of my tentacles had wrapped around your arm. I left a mark on you. I’ve never lost control like that. I was terrified I might do it again and you’d see what I really was, so I left before you asked questions. I didn’t know you weren’t human.”
Qylar let out a long, slow breath, some of his outrage fading. The narrow tentacle mark that had been on his arm. He lifted it and showed Kenji.
“It’s still there?” Kenji asked, his eyes growing to saucers before he lifted his gaze to Qylar. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how that happened.”
“It’s called an imprint among my people.”
Somehow, his eyes grew even wider. “Your people? What are you?”
Qylar cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. Was it a ploy—or did he really not know?
When Qylar didn’t answer, Kenji moved closer to the forcefield.
“I thought I might be some mutant octopus shifter. I swim out as often as I can, as far and deep as I can, hoping I might someday find someone like me.” Kenji searched Qylar’s face, tears shimmering in his eyes.
“You’re the closest thing I’ve ever found.
” He let out a shaky breath, a tear sliding down his cheek. “Please tell me what I am.”
Qylar’s chest tightened. He sensed nothing but pain coming from Kenji, but he couldn’t let his guard down. Not until he knew more. “How do you not know what you are?”
“I have no one to ask.”
“Your parents?” Qylar asked.
Kenji’s face tightened. “My mom’s gone. I don’t know who my father is.”
“Convenient,” Qylar said.
“Convenient?” Kenji scoffed, his eyes shining brightly. “You want to know about my parents? I’ll tell you all I know and then you let me know how convenient it is.”
Qylar steeled himself against Kenji’s sarcasm.
“My mom was a junkie. She prostituted herself to pay for her fixes. She only realized which of her clients was probably my father when I came out with chink eyes, as she liked to call them. Most of her johns weren’t Asian, so that narrowed down the potential sperm donor to one—or so she claimed.
I would’ve loved to know his name, but I suppose I should be thankful my father wasn’t a totally faceless man amid the litany of strangers in her mind.
” Kenji looked away, wiping dampness off his cheek.
“I went into the foster care system at five, soon after I started kindergarten and people started noticing her neglect. I only saw her a handful of times after that and most of those, she was coming down off a high and barely coherent. The last time I saw her, I was thirteen. After I was kicked out of the group home at eighteen, I found out why I hadn’t seen her in so long.
She’d died.” Kenji glared at him. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you any more than that but it’s all I know. ”
Kenji’s pain was palpable and so similar to his own. An abandoned child, living off the mercy of others.
“I’m so sorry,” Qylar said.
“Fuck you,” Kenji muttered, wiping under his eye again as his lower lip wobbled.
“If anyone knows the pain that can be wrought by our parents, it’s me.”
“You don’t know shit,” Kenji spat.
“Sadly, I do.”
Kenji met his stare.
“When I was ten, I found out my parents were monsters who’d committed horrifying crimes and hurt thousands of people.
They were sentenced to a life in the mines for what they’d done—them and my older siblings.
I was nearly sent along with them simply because I was their child.
I never knew about any of it, yet suffered all the same.
I’ve lived in the shadows of their infamous crimes my entire life—an outcast among my own people, hated for what they did. ”
“An outcast among your people… who are your people?”