Chapter 22 #3
He almost lunges, wanting to pull it from her hands so she doesn’t injure herself, but keeps his hands firmly planted on the desk behind him.
He doesn’t think she’d appreciate his stepping in.
Not that that has ever stopped him from doing something before, but with Kit, he finds himself thinking about everything a little bit more.
Still, he says, “Careful with that, love.”
She whips her head towards him, ponytail hitting the side of her face. “I’m fine,” she snaps.
Correct, he thinks. He’s needled her, but he can’t stop, loves the little bit of fire she gets in her eyes. “Have you ever handled one of those before?” He raises his brows at her, waiting.
Kit scoffs, turning back to where she’d set out the vial and the tongs. “I’ve handled plenty of tools, thank you very much.”
“Oh! Excuse me,” Task says, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. “How many is plenty?”
Kit glares at him over her shoulder. “Can you leave me alone?”
“It would be irresponsible of me to leave you with that unattended after I saw how you held it,” he responds. He pushes himself away from the desk, coming to stand next to her. “Here. Let me show you how.”
He reaches across her for the lumi-dagger, his arm brushing against her chest accidentally.
A prick of pain, followed by warmth his cheeks.
Something about standing this close to her has his heart racing, his nerve-endings tingling.
He’s never like this with the women at Xaria, but then again, the women on Xaria aren’t Kit.
“Are you going to show me, or what?” Kit teases.
“So impatient,” he replies, but he wraps his fingers around the hilt, feeling her eyes tracking them as he taps the button at the top.
A bluish energy begins to course throughout, wrapping itself around the celestium conductor.
It hums in the quiet room. “If you want to increase the energy, you tap again.” He shows her, the energy ramping up in the little weapon.
“And tap three times to turn it off. Whatever you do, don’t touch the energy.
It will lacerate your fingers. Or an organ, if you aim right. ”
“I could have absolutely figured that out,” Kit says. “I’m a Luminary, for Aaris’ sake!”
“I don’t trust you with weapons.”
“Probably for the best,” Kit says, chuckling.
She turns back to her workstation, taking the lumi-dagger from Task.
Their fingers brush, and he feels it again, the slight flush in his cheeks.
He tries to ignore it as she taps the dagger on again, studying the blue arc of energy flowing around it. “Think I can just grab a strand?”
“I have no idea. This is all you,” Task says, turning so that he’s half facing her, hip leaning against the workstation. He wants to watch her do this, whatever this winds up being. “Just…be careful.”
Kit lifts the tongs, inserting them carefully into the stream of energy arcing around the dagger, clamping them down and pulling.
The dagger momentarily short-circuits, and then, like a strand of yarn, a long tendril of energy breaks free, dangling from the end of the tongs.
Kit drops it into the vial, snapping a cap on it.
“Since I don’t know how long the energy will stay active, I probably need to look at it under the scope now. Can I bring it back to you tomorrow?”
“Keep it as long as you need,” Task says, in spite of his earlier goading.
Friday
Kit
She spent the entire night studying the energy she’d extracted from the lumi-dagger, trying to understand its pathways.
While she’d been trained in magitech, she’d never been exposed to military technology like this.
The celestium, she thought, must have some kind of magical property as well, because otherwise she doesn’t understand how the lumi-dagger could have such a long-lasting energy source. She wonders if it’s everlasting.
It was fascinating to see it firsthand, to study it and see how it wielded energy. But more than that, she was able to see the way the energy flowed under the scope, how it trembled and sparked. She’d need to compare what she’d seen to the virus’ structure later.
Now, she sits in the mess hall with her brother, nursing a coffee and trying to ignore how scratchy her eyes feel. She’s not been sleeping much lately, between her shifts in the medical bay and her research, and she’s not sure how much longer coffee is going to cut it.
She hasn’t been practicing with her power at all, even though it could help the infected.
She’s too scared of it, doesn’t want it, and realistically, she’s worried that if she uses it wrong, she’ll accidentally kill someone instead of bringing them back to life.
That’s a very real risk right now, given she hasn’t figured out how to wield it properly or control it.
She drains her mug, setting it down and looking to Knox, who is shoveling his breakfast into his mouth as if someone might take away his plate at any minute.
“Dude, slow down,” Kit says, laughing. “It’s not going anywhere.”
“I’m starved!” Knox says. “They don’t feed us enough on this ship.”
“And to think you’re not even playing Illumiball right now,” Kit teases.
“Well, not formally,” Knox says, shoveling another bite of oatmeal into his mouth. “A kid in my class brought one with, and we’ve been playing some pickup games in the hangar when we can.”
“That’s good,” Kit says. Then, “Please don’t break anything.”
Knox rolls his eyes. “Okay, mom.”
“Knox!” Kit cries, reaching across the table to swat his head. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”
His green eyes twinkle, and then he raises a hand, gesturing to someone who Kit can’t see. She senses him, though, before he approaches, the way she always can. His cedar scent wafts towards her, and Task drops into the seat next to her.
“Kit,” he nods. Then, to Knox, “Morning, brother.”
Brother? Since when are Task and Knox on friendly terms? Kit thinks she needs to get out of the lab more, if she’s missing this much.
“Morning,” Knox says, through a mouth full of food.
“Manners,” Kit mutters. She’s tried since her mom died, but Knox doesn’t care about the little things. She supposes it’s not important. Lumaria is, after all, experiencing a mass extinction event.
“Any progress last night?” Task asks her.
“A bit,” Kit says. While she had spent most of her time studying the energy from the lumi-dagger, she’d also spent entirely too many minutes thinking about Task’s damn hands.
The way they’d gripped the dagger. The way his fingers looked wrapped around the hilt.
The silver ring that glinted on his pointer.
The bluish-purple veins just underneath his skin.
She’d about burned them into her memory, and she’s hot now, thinking of what his hands would feel like on her.
She’s got to get it together. Clearly, she’s gone too long without, but there isn’t time for much else between her research and taking care of the infected. And anyway, she isn’t the type to simply fall into bed with someone for the sake of a quick lay. That’s what her own hands are for.
She rejoins the conversation, where Task is pointing a spoon at Knox. “How’s class? Met anyone?”
Knox’s neck reddens as he suddenly appears very interested in his bowl of oats. He shrugs. “Not really.”
“Not really?” Task raises his eyebrows, grinning as he takes a sip of the other coffee on his tray.
Knox shrugs a shoulder, pushing a hand through his wavy blonde hair as he looks up at Task.
“Oh, you devil. You did!” Task crows, setting down his coffee to clap his hands together.
Kit remains silent, sipping her coffee and watching this back and forth, confused about the conversation and the bizarre rapport Knox seems to have with Task. When the hell did that happen?
“I didn’t say that!” Knox insists, though the pink on his cheeks, the way he is determinedly avoiding Kit’s gaze, tells another story.
“Well, who is she?” Task asks, leaning back in his chair, slinging his arm across the back, the picture of relaxation.
“Major Canmore,” Knox says, inclining his head toward Kit, as if to remind him of her presence.
“Ah, right, right,” Task says, holding up his hands. “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to blow your cover.”
Kit is certain he absolutely meant to, but resolves to get to the bottom of this later. She, inexplicably, wants Task to herself. “Knox, don’t you have class soon?”
“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Knox sings, standing from the table and smiling broadly at Kit, as if he knows something she doesn’t. “See you later, Kitty.”
Kit sighs and turns to Task, immediately taken aback by the depth of his azure eyes. She both loves and hates looking at him. “Is he seeing someone?”
“That’s what you shooed him away to ask me?” Task laughs, taking another sip of his coffee.
“Well, no, but now I’m curious.” She traces her finger around the rim of the tin mug, trying to suppress a yawn. “You seem to have a…friendship with him.”
“He’s a good kid,” Task replies, shrugging. “And very persistent.”
Kit laughs. That is true. Knox doesn’t quit at anything. “We’ll revisit this later.”
“So, what, you couldn’t wait to get me alone?
” Task asks, raising his eyebrows. He’s teasing her, but she feels her stomach turn over, because that’s essentially it.
She is unreasonably fixated on him, despite his superiority complex, and she doesn’t understand why, but she can feel something deeper there.
That his behavior is a facade for something much more dark, much more broken.
She turns to face him in her seat, closing her eyes and letting out a breath.
She needs a reason. Something to give him that isn’t “I just wanted your attention,” even if that’s all this is.
Embarrassing, really, that she’s behaving this way.
She supposes she could ask him about the Vitalis. She does need answers, after all.
“I…I wanted to ask you something about…your people,” Kit starts.
“My people?” Task looks bemused.
“Yes, about the Eight Great,” Kit says, twisting her fingers as she thinks about how to phrase it. He’s helped her this week, yes, but she isn’t sure if she can trust him. “Are you…you all are missing one, yes?”
Task puts down his spoon, locking eyes with her, expression suddenly serious. “Why are you asking me this?”
“I just… I was talking to Finn the other night. He’s a professor of society and magic, and he mentioned to me that you’ve been missing one of the Eight.” That wasn’t entirely true, but it would have to do for now. She wants to see what she can pull out of him.
Task swallows, says nothing. He picks up his spoon again, as if she didn’t just careen the conversation into uncharted waters.
“He wouldn’t know that. And anyway, we’re not.
” His Chronogram buzzes against his wrist and he looks at it, lips turning down slightly.
“I’ve got to go.” He stands, moving towards the door.
He glances back over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes. “Stay out of trouble, Kit.”