He nods, smoothing the cuff back down. “I tried to install a reflex mod—something that would let my arm react faster in a crisis. Thought I’d cracked it. And it did work…for about four minutes. Then the circuit shorted out and fried part of the nerve network. I couldn’t stop shaking for a month. Took a year before I could write again.”
“Shit.”
“I was lucky,” he adds. “Lucky they pulled me out before it reached my spinal cord. Lucky someone noticed. Lucky someone…intervened.”
“And you were that someone for me,” I say.
“Yes,” he replies. “And just like someone helped me, we are going to help you—then we are going to make your device work.”
I meet his eyes. “You still think we can?”
“I’m more confident in that than ever.”
He may as well have just slapped my ass and called me a good girl. My lips part, my breath hitching. “You actually?—”
A little rasping bark sounds from the living room—a bark that I realize must be coming from Kaelion’s pet snake dog—and then there's a chime in the apartment.
Kaelion stands like he's been caught doing something dirty and curses under his breath.
“You expecting guests?” I ask.
“No,” he snaps. “They're early.”
A moment later, I hear the lock click from the living room. Kaelion's eyes dart to me. “You need to get up. I need…I need to make the bed again.”
“I can do it,” I offer, standing up. “Sorry?—”
“You did nothing wrong. Just…” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Don't mention what happened between us. No details. And don't…don't let Shahar needle you. She's intent on forcing me to find a mate.”
“What?”
He doesn't respond—just leaves me standing there.
Guess I should probably make the bed.
I’ve just gotten the blankets sorted when I hear the door open, then an excited littlechurrfrom the drakon…then footsteps. Voices.
A little girl…a grown woman—whose clothes I think I’m probably wearing?—and a deep-voiced man.
“Sorry we just showed up like this,” the woman says, voice muffled from the main room. “We got to the station early, then Solvi wanted to surprise you…”
“That’s alright,” Kaelion replies. “I was just getting ready to leave. Would you like tea?—”
“I’m going to my room!” the little girl shouts.
I freeze.
Then I go into overdrive.
I tidy up the bed as quickly as possible, feeling like a complete and utter freak for the completely dirty thoughts I’ve been having about this little girl’s dad, wondering how the hell I’m supposed to act like anormal person. I knock my arm against the lamp on the side table stepping back, sending it to the floor, and when I whip around, the snake dog is in the room and hissing at me.
I stumble back.
The girl appears in the doorway.
Her eyes go as big as dinner plates.
She looks just like him, but she’s a light shade of lavender where her dad is completely teal. They have the same tendril color, her skin color fading into electric yellow. Her eyes are the same color too—burnished gold, pretty. She’s clutching a sketchbook to her chest with both arms, lips parted.
