Page 86 of Strange Lights

And then Luca is striding inside, dressed in all-black leather riding gear, his dark hair helmet mussed, still shaggy but shot through with gray now. His face, too, is older, lined with years I’ve missed, but his eyes are still that bright piercing amber.

“Reggie,” he says simply, staring at me. He doesn’t smile, but his arms twitch as if he isn’t sure if he wants to hug me or strangle me.

“Luca,” I whisper.

“I thought you were still in there. When you left me the kid, I thought you went back. That you were still with Agency 51, after all this time. I thought you chose them. Why didn’t you contact me?”

I’m saved from having to find something to say when the second figure steps out from where he’s lurking in Luca’s shadow. I gasp. He might as well be Luca’s shadow. I could be looking at Luca as he was twenty years ago. The resemblance is that solid. How easily he must have passed for Luca’s son all these years.

“You grew,” I say dumbly.

Luca snorts. “People tend to do that, Reggie.”

I can’t stop staring at the boy. And he eyes me with the same sharp intelligence I remember. He’s in his late teens, or at least wearing a body that appears to be a teenager. But the flash of his eyes, his canines when he grins, are exactly the same as Eldi’s.

“You grew up,” I say again.

He nods in confirmation as he says, “Pops here got tired of tandem motorcycle rides.”

“Don’t call me that,” grumbles Luca without much feeling.

But the boy isn’t listening. He has spotted Eldi. He goes rigid and sinks to his knees. Eldi is staring at him, too, wide eyed and trembling. The boy makes a soft noise, one I mistake for a sob, a cry at first. But it’s a strangely lyrical sound, otherworldly. He does it again, and I realize he’s calling out to her. Her name, her real name, perhaps. Eldi says only one word before she leaps straight into his arms.

“Orion.”

35

Reunion

Orion clutches Eldi as if she were the only thing saving him from drowning, and she burrows into his embrace unhesitatingly. Orion keeps repeating that crooning sound. They cling to each other with the desperation of people who have been to war and back for each other. The intensity of their emotion makes me feel like an intruder.

Eldi has always felt like mine, but this is the moment I realize she was someone else’s first. I recall all those nights, her pointing to the stars and saying, “Orion.” Not a constellation, a person.

My first instinct is to comfort them both. I must have made the slightest movement toward them, because a flash of protectiveness ripples over Orion’s expression. I’ve never been afraid of Eldi, but Orion is terrifying at this moment. His skin reveals that alien shimmer, and his eyes flash dangerously; he has claws and fangs that I have no chance against. Calvin tugs me back, and a primal thrill of fear skitters down my spine. Orion would tear me apart without a second thought, with no remorse. I think he’d do anything to protect Eldi.

Luca reaches a hand placatingly toward Orion, but then pulls back as Orion tenses. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, Orion. It’s just me.”

Orion and Eldi stay there, half-crouched on the floor for what feels like forever. Finally, she gently reaches her hand up to pat his face. “Orion. Safe,” she says. I can’t begin to understand why this simple phrase makes Orion look like he wants to die. His expression crumples, and the tears roll. I finally see that little boy I first met, the vulnerable toddler, in a cage.

“We came here to explain where you came from, what you are,” Luca says, kneeling in front of Orion, wrapping him in a gentle embrace, “to show them what you showed me, in case it will help.”

Orion nods, stroking Eldi’s hair gently as he seems to pull himself together. He makes that lyrical sound again.

“What did you say to her?” I ask Orion. He stares at me, uncomprehending. I ask again, “Is that her name?” He looks at me as if I slapped him. I don’t understand.

“I called her what she is, ‘Baby,’ and ‘seventy-three,’” he says, which makes no sense. But Luca’s eyes go wide, and he swears quietly.

“Eldi,” Eldi says to Orion. Pointing to herself, looking up at Orion. “Eldi,” she says again, and he nods in understanding.

“It’s nice to hear your voice, Eldi. And to finally know your name,” Orion says, his voice cracking.

“Goat,” Eldi says, holding up Goat for Orion to see. He laughs, surreptitiously wiping his eyes.

Meredith, sitting closest to Orion’s spot on the floor, reaches out a hand to pull him to his feet. He lets her and takes a deep breath, composing himself.

“I wore your baby clothes,” Orion says to Meredith when she introduces herself.

“That’s one hell of an opener,” she says with a laugh.