Chapter 20
The general shifted on the bench as if stabbed by thousands of invisible needles. He'd been sitting in that garden for an hour and could swear that any moment now, roots would start sprouting from his feet and he'd take root among the daisies.
The storm that had been threatening finally broke.
Zion felt miserable under the downpour—there was so much water he could barely see Kyller's window.
He was still furious about the night's events, yet despite everything that had happened, he couldn't bring himself to leave.
The shadows didn't want to leave the house, and if he was honest with himself, neither did he.
When he'd tried to force himself to go, the shadows refused to respond, let alone obey his commands to move away from the house.
That was strange—they'd never denied him anything in his entire existence.
But this was turning out to be a night of new experiences, and none of them pleasant.
From the way the tendrils circled his partner, as if enchanted by her presence, he knew something was off and chose to trust them rather than leave on foot.
He'd already been thrown out of his house, was soaked to the bone, and had now lost control of his gifts. It was the most turbulent night of his existence.
The shadows clustered on Kyller's glass wall like photographers waiting for a show. It was irritating, and he couldn't stay still. He was agitated, anxious, worried. All he wanted was to talk to Kyller, but the woman had made her position perfectly clear.
He could hardly believe the little girl had sent him flying out the door and would never forget that devilish smile on her lips.
The funny part was that in a fight, she never used any of the moves he'd taught her, but tonight she'd seemed like an expert in defense when she broke free and activated the barrier.
He stood up and began pacing. It was already three in the morning, and despite the exhausting day, he felt like he had enough energy to take down an entire army.
“Zion?”
He stopped in the middle of the flowers and recognized the chimera's voice, which sounded worried.
“Did something happen?”
She never called him—it was always he who contacted the creature. Immediately, he sensed something must have happened and headed for the door.
“Yes. The girl is whimpering. She got into the enormous water bowl.”
Zion went to the barrier and placed his hands on the blue film.
“Is she injured?”
He hadn't detected the scent of blood, but her smell had been strange all night.
“No, but she called the veterinarian. He said things I don't understand, asked her to stay in the bowl. And said you would help her.”
Zion was confused. He knew that bowl was Kiara's word for the bathtub. Veterinarian must mean a doctor. Why would she call a doctor if she was one? Nothing made sense that night, and he'd already given up trying to understand.
“She's your female. You should lie down next to the bowl and lick her head. Good males do that.”
“She'll eat me alive if I go in that house.”
“How absurd. Our female is not a cannibal, and she certainly couldn't eat something alive—she doesn't even have fangs for that.”
For the first time that night, Zion laughed. He'd forgotten the chimera didn't understand metaphors. Then the shadows gave up on the window and clustered around him, as if they knew what he was thinking.
“I can't stay with her.”
A shadow bit the general's rear, making him curse under his breath.
“Infernal creatures. Now everyone gets excited, but when she yells at me, you hide behind me like a bunch of cowards. You think I don't notice?”
The shadows ignored the general and climbed up the barrier. From above, a moan of pain reached his ears. With that, Zion threw his good sense to the wind.
Δ
The barrier was broken.
I knew because I saw it disintegrating in red around the house.
“He actually did that?” I asked the chimera, somewhat curious.
She just nodded.
By the divine gods! He'd broken the barrier to get in. I didn't even know what to think about that and had no strength left to continue arguing. I just sank deeper into the water, leaving only my head above the surface.
I heard heavy footsteps on the stairs, then the bedroom door creaked and the sounds stopped near the bathroom door. I waited for him to say something, but silence was the only thing screaming in that room. So I decided to take the initiative:
“What do you want here?”
Another drop splattered on the floor, marking the uncomfortable silence.
“I sense there's something wrong. What's happening?”
“Besides you breaking a very expensive barrier? Nothing you need to worry about,” I said sarcastically. A wave of pain filled me, and I put a hand over my mouth to muffle the scream.
“I'll have to disagree. There's something wrong with your scent.” I could almost hear him sniffing the air, but I preferred to believe it was just my imagination. “May I come in?”
I couldn't see his body, but I could see the shadows clustering in the doorframe.
“Come in for what, Zion? To argue about the academy? To continue the sermon about me being a different girl? To fill my mind with images of my people being killed by your hands?” I thought about it and got even more furious.
“By the gods, the fact that you're part of those people makes it twice as bad.”
I took a deep breath when the pain eased up, and he stayed quiet on the other side.
“I'm not going to fight with you, Kyller.” I heard him sigh, like he was just as tired of this situation. “Look... I know our relationship is complicated, and you have every right to be angry because it's all my fault, but I'm coming in anyway.”
This time he didn't try to lie about his ancestry, but the biggest surprise was him admitting he'd been a pain in the ass. At least he was self-aware enough to see it—that was progress.
“I don't have any clothes on,” I exclaimed, sinking deeper into the water.
“I promise not to look.”
“What do you want?”
“I just want to talk.”
“I don't have the strength for another argument. Have you decided if you're staying? Because if the answer is no, you can turn around and leave.”
Stay. I didn't know why I wanted him to stay so badly. He was a genocidal monster, a murderer, an executioner. Yet I kept silently begging him to stay.
Here's the thing about loneliness: it makes you a lot less picky about company.
I curled my legs against my chest as another wave of pain radiated through my back and stomach. It felt like each limb weighed a hundred extra pounds, and apparently moving only made things worse.
He took a deep breath.
“I can't make any promises, but I don't know what's going on with you, and something tells me it's not good. I can stand at this door all night, but don't make me leave. I won't.”
“Lovely speech! Want me to applaud?” I grunted.
We stayed like that. Only the sound of his breathing told me he was still there.
Kiara, sprawled near the door, looked from one of us to the other like she was silently judging us.
I heard Zion lean against the wall on the other side, and the sound of water dripping onto the wooden floor filled the silence.
He must have been soaked—the scent of his skin filled the room.
After almost half an hour of that standoff to see who was more stubborn, I gave up.
I was tired of him and that shitty, oppressive silence.
I took a deep breath and checked that the foam was covering me completely.
Just to be safe, I tossed in another handful of bath salts and swirled them through the water.
“Come in,” I grumbled.
First came the shadows rushing through the door, and right behind them, Zion.
His wet hair was pulled back in a messy bun, with strands falling loose around his face.
His clothes were soaked, and despite the exhaustion in his eyes, I still thought he was the most handsome man in the world.
The most stubborn, grumpy, and hardheaded—yet devastatingly handsome.
Damn biological compatibility.
Zion circled the bathtub, his eyes on me, then sat on the step behind me. My whole body shuddered as the pain hit me full force.
“Can we call a truce for tonight?” he asked, sliding down to the floor beside the bathtub, clearly uncomfortable with what he was seeing.
I knew I shouldn't give in after kicking him out, much less be civil after the scenes he'd shown me in his mind, but I was tired, in pain, and alone. It wouldn't kill me to admit I needed someone by my side tonight. According to Ambrose, this was just the beginning.
“Just for tonight.”
“What's happening?” he asked, worry in his voice. The shadows gathered around the sides of the bathtub and stared at me curiously. I stared back.
“Why do your shadows look at me like they're begging for something?” As I spoke, the little ones clustered closer, as if noticing the attention. “Do they have their own consciousness?”
He stared at the tendrils for a moment, as if unsure what to say.
“Normally they only react to defend me against enemies—they never pay attention to people—but they seem to get agitated around you.
Over the years, I've discovered they have some level of intelligence, but they mostly use it to get on my nerves.” The clusters of darkness turned toward him and pointed at me.
“I think they want permission to touch you.”
Zion sat with one leg extended and the other bent, his elbow resting on his knee, his gaze fixed on the white wall across from him.
I couldn't keep my eyes off him, and I shifted to get a better view.
At that moment, the pain caught me off guard, and my teeth clenched to keep from crying out in agony.
The little shadows clustered together, writhing, then unraveled from each other again.
They seemed to sense the pain and mirror it.
“You didn't answer my question,” he said, his voice worried.
I took a deep breath as the pain faded and felt my cheeks flush as I answered:
“It's my period.”