Page 75 of Interion

“Thank you, Ambrose,” I said, defeated. The line went dead.

I uncapped the bubble bath salts and tossed them into the water. Kiara was lying in the bathroom doorway.

“Don’t worry about me,” I murmured, unhooking my bra. “It’s just a woman thing. We’ll be fine.”

Her worry didn’t ease one bit.

I shuddered again when the cramp hit me like a punch straight to the gut. The pain radiated into my back in agonizing waves. I thought about Zion planted in front of the house. The rain was brutal, and he’d have to leave at some point because I wasn’t going to lower the barrier. I felt bad about the situation, but I couldn’t go back on my word. He needed to think and make his choice.

I slipped off my underwear and sank into the hot bathtub, thinking about everything that had happened that day. I didn’t want to admit Zion was right, but part of me recognized it had been a mistake to expose myself like that outside the walls. And then another, even more annoying part of my mind replayed the words he’d once said during an argument: “What’s the line where the barrier stops being protection and becomes a cage?” I groaned in frustration, because that night had proved the grumpy jerk was right. Those men really wanted to kill me and would have done so with sick pleasure if Zion hadn’t saved me.

Thunder rattled the windows, and I curled up thinking about him out there.

“Damn stubborn man. He’ll leave, won’t he?” I asked the chimera, who was watching me with concern. This time, she didn’t snort in agreement—just kept watching me.

That was clearly a no.

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.