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Chapter 9
Ana
“I’ve never been on a busbefore,” Asili says with such an air of aristocratic indignation on his young face that I have to physically hold myself back from giggling.
“Excited?” I grin as I pull my hair out of its bun, and we pause by the bus stop.
He wrinkles his nose. “Do we have to share with other people?”
“Of course,” I say, more gleeful than I should be about taking a Tzelik onto public transport. “That’s how buses work.”
“Can’t you tell them to get off?”
I reach down and adjust his dark, fur-lined hat to further cover his ears. “Why would I do that? Don’t you think they deserve to get to where they’re going, too?” He stares up at me considerately as I boop him on the nose, and the rumbling hum of a large engine can be heard approaching down the lush, tree-lined street we stand in. I shiver a little as I tug my slightly threadbare jumper around my shoulders. I should have put another layer on today, but it looked so sunny outside, and I hadn’t felt too cold when I’d gone on my run this morning.
“We’re about to get on the XL217,” I say, ignoring my discomfort. “I want you to remember that in case you ever get accidentally separated from me, and you need to get home on your own.”
His eyes widen with a sudden trepidation as he turns to watch the hover-bus approach. “What? B-by myself?” he squeaks.
I chuckle and pat him comfortingly over his thick jacket as I swing my backpack forward. “Don’t worry, honey, I’m never going to leave you on purpose. But just in case, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?” I fish my bus card out of my bag, as well as a pen, and I scribble XL217 over the white plastic. “Would you like to tap on to practice?”
A look of determination suddenly descends over his features as he stares at the card I hold out towards him, and he takes it from my fingers as the bus hums to a stop before us, metal stilts descending to catch it as the hover mechanism powers off.
“’ Atta boy.” I grin, but before we take more than one step forward, a heavy hand lands on my shoulder, and I spin around in surprise.
It’s the Mystery Man who kicked down the doors of the restaurant the other night! I clutch a hand over my heart as I gust out a breath of relief, my eyes raking over his suited, expressionless form. “You scared me!”
“Uncle Kyrin,” Asili exclaims happily, “are you going to come on the bus with us, too?”
Kyrin turns his shocking blue gaze down towards his nephew without so much as twitching an eyebrow. “No.” He says with a gruff voice.
Then he glares at the bus driver until the doors awkwardly slide shut, and the bus takes off again without us. I sigh.
“Well, I hope you plan on taking us to campus, then,” I grouch. “The next bus isn’t for another forty-five minutes.”
With a gesture, he starts us towards a luxury carrier parked a little way down. “Never try to take Asili on public transport again.”
“Wow, okay,” I say, taken aback by how serious he is. “It’s just a bus.”
He pauses mid-stride and grasps my forearm firmly, forcing me to stop along with him as he spins me around, while Asili continues entirely unperturbed towards the carrier. His grip doesn’t hurt, but there’s something intimidating about the way he holds me just a touch too close for personal comfort as his large frame towers over me.
Damn, I thought the president was intense, but his brother is next level.
“The bus,” he says in a flat, gruff tone, “is not safe.”
“There’s nothing wrong with public transport,” I say, leaning backwards to get out of his grasp. “You’re acting like I’ve done something dangerous!”
“You were to take a private carrier to campus today. I am to escort you and Asili as guard.”
“Well, it would have been nice if somebody actually told me that, instead of you just manhandling me and grunting about safety.”
He stares at me for a long moment and then lets go of my arm. “You were not told?”
“No,” I huff, “nobody’s actually told me anything about anything; I’m just running around trying to figure everything out as I go! I’ve only been on this freaking planet for like a month, you know. I didn’t realize that buses were explosive death-traps.”
“The buses are not death traps,” he says, and then starts us towards the carrier again, “unless you are the son of a president with violent enemies.”
I think about that for a second as we walk towards Asili, who pokes his head out to watch us curiously.
