Chapter 23 #2
“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “So that’s not your real skin…but it is?”
“Exactly. It wasn’t always, but it’s me now.”
That ever-present, rational corner of my mind finally clicked into gear. Cataloged. Processed.
An alien in a synth-skin suit. And underneath it, he was silver and sparkly.
Got it.
“So I guess to answer your question, Rae,” Sky said, tilting his head and relaxing back against the counter again, “I’m as human as you are right now.” He held my gaze. “In all the ways that matter.”
Something about the way he said that made me blush. I tried to ignore it. “But you’re not. You sure as hell weren’t earlier at Oasis. What happened there?”
For a second, it drifted back again, the image. That strange glittering of his skin, like he was decorated with tiny crystals. Those depthless black eyes. My stomach swooped.
“No, you’re right.” Sky pursed his lips. “I don’t know exactly what happened back there. The synth-skin malfunctioned. I’ve never had that happen. Not once in all my years here.” He shifted against the counter, and his attention slid to my hand. “I’ve got some theories, though.”
I grimaced and followed his eyes, constricting my fingers around the mace. He didn’t know for sure what had caused the glitch, but we both suspected. It had happened after I touched him. With my palm covered with strange markings.
“Okay.” One thing at a time. I forced my parched throat to work. “So with this synth-skin thing, could you touch, say…a house cat, and morph into one of those?”
“Uh.” He blinked. “What?”
“Animorphs. Old book series,” I muttered. “Never mind. Probably before your time…on Earth.” Which, while we were on the topic—how long was that?
“Ten years,” Sky said, like he’d read my mind. Lightning streaked outside the window, illuminating the room in a brief flash of white-blue. “I’ve been here ten years.”
Wow. Ten years. How old was he then? I’d have been fourteen when he landed here. I had so many damn questions. They were crowding over themselves, trying to get out.
Focusing on the important ones, I rubbed my forehead with the back of my mace hand. “Okay, back to the human suit. That’s it? No other forms…?”
Like, say, a Rock ’Em Sock ’Em from hell? I braced for his answer. If he turned into some kind of killing machine right now, I was toast. Pepper spray wasn’t going to cut it.
He was frowning at me now. “I can’t shapeshift into other people, if that’s what you’re asking.
Or any other races. That’s not how the DNA sequencing works.
I’d have to go through the removal of this suit—which is a long, painful process and not always successful—then bond with a new one programmed to the new species.
And it only works if they have similar mass. This is my form now.”
He looked down at himself then back up at me. “Is that what you mean?”
No. I was asking if you turn into a murder-y robot.
I shook my head jerkily.
“Okay.” He hesitated, the grooves in his forehead deepening. “Well, this skin does let me alter my appearance one other way. Only slightly, but... ”
He backed into the shadowy corner of my living room. I stiffened, tensing to run. I waited for metal limbs, for claws, for horror.
Instead, his outline shimmered. Darkened. Blurred.
His shape smeared, like pencil shading smudged along the edges. My jaw dropped. He was still there, but hard to see, harder to focus on. His body bled into the darkness until he became a living, moving shadow.
Essentially, he disappeared.
In a way I’d totally seen before.
I gasped and swayed, colliding with the kitchen counter. Sky snapped back into view, and I lifted the mace in a trembling hand. “You!”
Sky halted in place and eyed me warily. “Me…?”
“The lab…and…last night,” I rasped, the can wavering. “In the trees across the street. Have you been following me?”
He shot a glance at my shaking hand. That muscle in his temple tightened and released. “It’s not what it looks like. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay. You seemed upset when you left Crescent.”
Upset. That was an understatement. “So what—you stalked me like some creepy alien peeping Tom?”
His sigh was barely audible over the storm—and the blood roaring in my ears.
“Just tell me,” I ordered, lifting the mace.
“Fine.” His stare didn’t waver. “Yes. I’ve been keeping an eye on you, Raven.”
“Why? How much of an eye?” I demanded. “You were at the university. Which means you saw that thing. And did you follow me to Crescent? Is that why you were there?”
He didn’t deny it. Instead, his body jerked, and his gaze snapped to mine. “You really do remember what happened at the school.”
The way he was looking at me, sharp and assessing, made my pulse jump. I ignored the question, too busy coming to terms with the fact I’d been freaking right.
“Oh my God,” I breathed. “You have been stalking me. Why?”
This was all so overwhelming. Breathing hurt. The question that’d haunted me since he’d gone silver on me at Oasis slipped out. “Do you…have a robot form?”
Sky stilled, then barked a harsh laugh completely devoid of humor. “The Enil,” he murmured, raking a hand through his hair, leaving it to fall haphazardly over his ears and forehead. It was starting to curl as it dried. I’d never seen it messy like that. “You do remember the Enil.”
I tore my attention from his hair and fixed him with an incredulous look instead.
“You keep saying that. Why wouldn’t I? And you keep saying that word—the Enil.
Was that the robot?” I paused for air and flung one arm toward the corner.
“And that other person was you at TWU, wasn’t it?
With your…with the skin-suit thing. You yelled my name. ”
He didn’t say anything. He was still studying me. My legs threatened to give out again, and I pressed my lower back into the kitchen counter. My guts were so twisted, there was a distinct chance I was going to throw up. The room needed to stop spinning.
Sky’s dark gaze held mine, luminous and so serious. “But the question is, how do you remember?” he mused aloud, more to himself than me. Which was fine, since I was having trouble thinking clearly.
He had been following me. All my gut instincts about him had been right.
I mean, I hadn’t imagined the whole alien-in-a-human-suit part. I’d known something was off, but no one could blame me for not considering that possibility.
Before I could blink, Sky closed the distance between us. I squeaked, every cell going on Red Alert. But there was nowhere to go. I was wedged between the counter and the looming alien looking at me like I was the mystery.
So I stayed in place, breathing hard as he closed the distance between us. I felt too exposed in my tank top and old yoga pants. Like a pinned specimen beneath a microscope. With my phone hand, I yanked my cardigan closed.
Sky didn’t stop until he stood right in front of me, and he tipped his chin down, his expression solemn. “You remember everything, don’t you?”
“I…” More than I wanted to; that was for sure. I licked my lips, transferring my weight from foot to foot.
Was I supposed to forget…? Like those security guards had apparently forgotten everything? Like everybody else except me had somehow missed the angry alien robot rampaging through the anthro hall?
I didn’t say anything, merely stared up at him. I could feel the heat he radiated. The shirt beneath his coat clung to his torso like a second skin.
Or a third skin, technically.
He was close and he smelled like Sky—rain, leather, that fresh air scent. And that same awareness I’d always felt around him bloomed low in my belly. Made my cheeks heat and my mouth go dry.
Which couldn’t be right.
Because that meant despite everything, despite what I’d seen, despite the fact I’d spent the last days narrowly escaping being killed by aliens…I was still wildly, stupidly attracted to one.
As if he felt it, too, that pang of attraction, Sky’s breath hitched—the smallest catch. His eyes swept over my face, pausing on my mouth so briefly I wondered if I’d imagined it. Like it had when we were dancing.
Had that part been real?
I forced myself to focus on the conversation rather than how little space there was between us. “How would I forget something like what happened in the lab?”
Why was it suddenly so hot in here?
Why did I have the inexplicable urge to move toward him?
Instead, I leaned back as far as the counter allowed. Cell phone in one hand, mace in the other. Searching for air that didn’t smell like him and failing miserably.
“You shouldn’t be able to remember,” he said, eyes finding mine again. “When I carried you out to the hallway, I wiped the memory.” Now his gaze dropped to my hand. The marked one holding the mace. “Unless…”
“Wait. Back up.” I recoiled. “Wiped my memory? What are you talking about?”
“It’s part of the suit…” He looked away with a resigned sigh. “A neural wipe. The ability to control brain waves via electrical…” He shook his head, sweeping out with a hand like he was brushing that insane sentence away. “It’s just a failsafe in case—”
I finally found my voice. “Did you just say control brain waves? Are you kidding me right now?”
His eyes slid back to mine, narrowed. “It’s harmless—”
“Have you done that to me before?”
“No!” His mouth took on a downward slant, like that question had offended him. “No, I haven’t. Why would I?”
“I don’t know!” I threw my hands up, the movement wild enough that he lurched back to avoid being clipped by the mace. “Maybe I saw your spaceship or something. How am I supposed to know if I don’t remember?”
He blinked, then said blandly, “I don’t just go around showing people my spaceship, Raven.”
No, of course he didn’t. My bubble of hysterical laughter burst free, and Sky’s frown deepened into something like annoyance. Especially when the giggles kept coming. In fact, I laughed so hard, I had to catch myself on the counter.
“Sorry,” I managed, swiping my wrist over my eyes. I flapped the phone at him. “It’s just…too much.”
He rocked back on his heels and slipped his hands into his pockets. When I could see again, I found his annoyance had dissipated, tucked away beneath the calm mask.
“It’s fine,” he said, glancing away. His jaw ticked. “This is a lot.”
“Yeah. That’s an understatement.” I snorted. Oddly enough, the laughter had helped, like a pressure valve had released. I took a deep breath, let it out, and went back to it. “Okay. So if you were in the lab, you saw…the robot then.”
Looking back at me, he nodded. “That robot—although it isn’t technically a robot—was an Enil.”
I’d suspected, but putting a name to the thing that’d haunted my nightmares for days felt just as surreal as hosting an extraterrestrial in my apartment. “And what happened to it?”
“I took care of it,” Sky said absently. His attention drifted to my marked hand still fisted around the mace.
“Took care of it,” I repeated, gawking. “You took care of the seven-foot robot from outer space.”
“It’s not technically a robot,” he said again with a hint of exasperation.
“Not a robot. Sorry.” My bad. A robot from outer space was ridiculous. I leaned against the counter. “And the tablet thing. They were after it?”
“More or less,” he said, reaching for me—for my mace, specifically.
I recoiled and clutched it to my chest. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry.” He eased back, his voice gentling like I was a skittish animal. “I just want to see the marks on your palm again.”
I didn’t loosen my death grip. All the shapes and swirls were hidden by the canister. “Why? What are they? I thought it was just scars from a burn or…”
Or at least that’s what I’d been trying to tell myself. Before it lit up and effectively ruined that excuse. Now, that theory seemed…highly unlikely.
Sky didn’t answer. When I eyed him warily, his expression tightened. Like he was bothered by it.
Yeah, well…so sue me. Frankly, I thought I was doing awesome. I hadn’t sprayed a single person—or Pladian—with mace, nor had I fainted during this extraterrestrial info dump. I was a champ, thank you very much.
Excuse me for having some reservations about flashing the alien-y looking artwork that’d started this entire thing. I held my ground, knuckles whitening around the pepper spray. My fridge kicked on, humming away in the kitchen. Loud in the silence.
After the standoff stretched another long heartbeat, Sky sighed.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured, his deep voice rasping.
I stared at his shoulder and scraped my teeth over my bottom lip, my heartbeat unsteady. He ducked his head, giving me no choice but to meet his eyes again.
“I promise you’re safe with me,” he said. The conviction shone in his gaze holding mine. “I’d just like to see the marks again.” When I didn’t immediately protest, he reached for me, slower this time, watching my face. “If that’s okay.”
Oh, what the hell. Why not?
This time, I let him. I couldn’t quite make myself extend the hand, but I didn’t pull away when he touched my wrist.
His fingers were warm. Steady. Real. My pulse jumped in the hollow of my throat as I watched them curve around the delicate bones.
They felt…well, like human fingers. Long, graceful, with neat nails and attached to a human-shaped hand. Great hands, really. They made mine look small and pale in comparison.
And because I was a sucker for nice-looking hands attached to nice-looking guys, I let him tug the mace canister free from my loose grip.
When I looked up, his frown had faded. He gave me a small, close-lipped smile as he set the bottle on the counter behind me.
Like he was quietly celebrating the small victory of not getting doused in the process.
The night was still young.
On instinct, I closed my now-empty hand, hiding the marks, but Sky gently pried my curled-tight fingers open. I didn’t stop him from doing that, either.
Once my palm was flat, we both looked down.
The strange symbols shimmered faintly in the light. I held my breath while Sky cradled my hand in his, lifting it slightly, studying the intricate swirls like they held the secrets to the universe.
Which…you know, crazily enough, wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.
Speaking of outside the realm of possibility, in case I hadn’t mentioned it, Sky was cradling my hand.
Goosebumps prickled across my skin. He’d leaned in enough, his breath ghosted over my forehead. I slowly tipped my face up. His deep blue eyes were intent, his features drawn in concentration. Those cheekbones were ridiculous.
I told myself it was fear. It had to be. That liquid warmth in my gut couldn’t be what it felt like. Not now. Not still.
But here he was. Sky. My bartender crush. My maybe-alien protector-slash-stalker, and he was holding my hand in his nicely shaped one, and he was looking all broody and thoughtful again—
Holy crap. That feeling. There was something very wrong with me.
He was from another world, and yet I still wanted to lick him like a popsicle.