“I’m not leaving you.”
“You’re the fastest. You can get him to safety.” She met Anya’s eyes, trying to project calm authority she didn’t feel. “Please.”
Anya’s jaw set in a stubborn line that reminded Corinne painfully of her late husband. “Fine. But only if he actually tries something. I’m not running from some guy just standing there.”
“Fair enough.”
The minutes crawled. She sipped tea. Anya pretended to read something on her datapad. Mikoz happily destroyed his wooden block, drool running down his chin.
And the Cire watched. She could feel his attention like a weight on her shoulders. Not threatening exactly, but not friendly either. Assessing. Calculating.
What does he want?
A commotion at the plaza entrance made her look up. Selik strode through the crowd, parting it like water. He moved with predatory grace, every line of his body radiating danger. Their eyes met across the distance. She saw relief flash in his expression, followed immediately by fury.
He’d spotted the other Cire.
She stood, pulling Mikoz against her chest. “Selik?—”
But he was already moving, heading straight for the stranger with single-minded focus. The other Cire straightened, hands coming up in a placating gesture. He said something she couldn’t hear over the crowd noise.
Selik stopped a few feet away, tail lashing, every muscle tense.
They spoke. The stranger said something, and Selik responded, voice low and dangerous. The stranger gestured toward her and the children, and Selik moved to block his view. Theconversation continued, tense and rapid. She itched to go over there, to hear what they were saying, but Anya grabbed her arm.
“Wait,” she said. “Let Selik handle it.”
“But—”
“If it’s a fight, you being there makes it harder for him to protect you. If it’s not a fight, you being there doesn’t change anything. Either way, we stay here until he signals.”
She hated that Anya was right, but she stayed put, holding Mikoz tight, watching her mate face down potential danger. The conversation ended abruptly. The stranger said one more thing, then turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd. Selik watched him go, then immediately crossed to their table.
“Are you hurt?” His hands were on her face, her arms, checking for injuries. “Did he touch you?”
“No. We’re fine. He just—he was watching us. Following us.” She clutched at his shirt. “I’m sorry. I should have stayed home. I shouldn’t have?—”
“This is not your fault.” He pulled her against him, awkward with her belly and Mikoz between them but necessary. “Never your fault.”
“Who was he?”
“Someone I need to speak with. At home. In private.” He looked at Anya. “Gather your things. We are leaving now.”
They moved quickly through the market, his hand firm on her back. He scanned constantly, looking for threats, positioning himself between them and the crowd. The walk home felt impossibly long even though it was only a few blocks. Her feethurt. Her back ached. The baby was pressing on her bladder with renewed enthusiasm. But she didn’t complain. She just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, on keeping Mikoz calm, on breathing through the residual fear making her hands shake.
When they finally reached their house, Selik checked every room before allowing them inside. He locked the doors, closed the shutters, and transformed their home into a fortress. Only then did he sit down, pulling her onto his lap despite her protests about being too heavy.
“Tell me exactly what happened,” he said. “Everything.”
So she did. The feeling of being watched. Spotting the Cire. The way he followed them. Every detail she could remember. When she finished, Selik was quiet for a long moment.
“He said his name is Taranov. He said he had information about the Council and their plans that he wished to share.”
Her breath caught. “What information?”
“He did not want to discuss it in public. He is coming here in two hours.” His arms tightened around her. “He did say that the Council is actively searching for Cire children.”
The fear she’d been holding at bay crashed over her. “What do we do?”
