Page 43

Alexiares

T here was always the option to sleep when I was dead, I guess . We’d taken approximately two steps into The Compound before Amaia had sent Reina to summon Riley to our quarters and Tomoe to Tomás. It wasn’t as though we had time to fuck around. I just wished I could at least wash my ass and use an actual bathroom before getting down to business.

Suckerpunch barreled through the door to our quarters first, sprinting toward the half-full food dish he’d left behind and inhaling it. Pulling Amaia into the room, I sank onto the couch and brought her down to my lap, torturing her with the most tender of kisses. That was something I’d learned to enjoy these last few months. The tenderness of her touch. Knowing that not every kiss, every hug, every touch was given freely and out of love. Without condition.

The knock at the door shattered any illusion of peace. Predictable. I should have known Riley wouldn’t waste a second after learning we’d returned. Tossing my head back with a groan, I plucked her off my lap and stepped to the side.

“Where are you going?” she asked, disappointment creasing the lines near her eyes. Not at my departure, but at the stolen moment now passed.

“Besides the obvious reunion I’d be forced to endure,” I said, giving her a knowing smile. “The two of you are capable of handling a debrief on your own. Give me the spark notes when you’re done, I’m off to scrub a week’s worth of hell off me, and then, a nap. Don’t wake me if the house is burning down.”

She chuckled, opening the door with a squeal. Harley barked with excitement, the commotion causing Suckerpunch to stir from the corner, pushing past me for the front of the room. I slipped out before Riley could start talking.

I woke up from my nap in time to catch tonight’s entertainment. Riley lounged across the couch, boots kicked up on the armrest. There’d been a lot of good news between the three of us as of late and dare I say, I was excited for the … addition to the family. Amaia sat on the floor in front of him, head propped against the cushion. She seemed completely spent.

Though the hours passed in my nap, time told a different story. Despite spending half a day hiking back through an annoying amount of fucking herds, it wasn’t even dinner time yet. She smiled faintly and reached out a hand. I took it, helping her up and giving Riley a clasp on the shoulder as I passed behind him on the couch.

The front door opened, and the room froze.

Elie stepped through, “Oh great. You’re back. Do we still have to do that stupid family book club thing tonight?” Her moody hazel eyes scanned the room, landing right on Riley, locking in on him like a target. A repeat fight I’d pay great money to miss.

Amaia moved in front of him, her arms crossing over her chest, my attention stuck on the swelling of her breasts pushed up with the movement. She glared at me and cleared her throat, turning back toward Elie. “Sorry to disappoint, Els, I’m meeting with Tomás in a bit to go over some blueprints. We need every second we can get before we leave in two weeks. You can sit in on it if you want.”

“Pass.” Elie’s frown deepened, but she smoothed it quickly, always trying to play the little soldier. I recognized it because I’d done the same. Extremely different circumstances, same crushing weight. Amaia saw it too.

“It’s pretty early still,” Amaia added. “Let’s do dessert in a few hours and then reschedule for after? What’d ya think?”

“Sure. Whatever,” Elie muttered, her gaze flickering to Riley one last time. “I’ll be in my room.”

She stormed off, dogs trailing her, slamming the door with a reverberating thud that could be heard throughout The Compound. The room went silent. And awkward as hell.

“I should go—” Riley started. The neutral expression he wore day in and day out crumpled to the textbook display of regret. Something else lingered; if I was an idiot, I’d call it hopelessness, but that didn’t quite portray the crinkling lines of heartbreak etching along his face.

“No, Ril,” Amaia cut him off, reaching for his wrist. “Stay. You’re right. We should figure this out sooner rather than later.”

A heavy knock rattled the front door. All of us turned, caught off guard for a moment. I stared between them, watching them have their own silent argument. I got it, don’t worry.

“It’s Tomás,” I said flatly, crossing the rest of the way across the room to get it myself.

Amaia shot me that irritated headshake she’d perfected since the day we’d met. “It’s probably Miller, she was supposed to drop off updated patrol routes thirty minutes ago.” She pushed past me, still in her usual cargos, now stained with dirt and guts, and her tucked-in tank top. The only indication she’d even attempted to relax were the curls now framing her face. Amaia opened the door and sighed, frozen in the doorway.

“Told you,” I muttered. The knock that came hit four times, not Miller’s usual three.

“It hurts, ya know?” Tomás said, stepping inside with the same sly grin of his brother. Fuck, even the inflection of their voice when they were making some shitty joke was identical. “Being greeted by beautiful women with such disappointment.”

I clasped his hand in a quick, familiar greeting. Thumping and muffled shuffling from Elie’s room pulled our attention. The dogs were still with her, quiet, so whatever she was doing in there, she was safe. Tomás’s eyes flicked toward the door and Riley shifted, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he audibly swallowed. Without a single word, he charged through the front door.

“Riley …” Amaia’s voice wavered, her hand reaching for the empty space in front of her but didn’t follow. Her posture stiffened, the general snapping back into place, but the crack in her resolve was hard to miss—if you knew where to search for it. And I did.

Tomás glanced at the ceiling like he was trying to disappear into it, his hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders raised. “Should I come back or …?”

“You deal with this,” I said, gesturing to Amaia. “I’ve got Elie.”

Her head snapped toward me at the lack of negotiation left in my statement. Something flickered in her eyes. Gratitude. Guilt. She nodded, deciding to trust me on this.

I turned toward Elie’s room and paused, shaking my head with a wry smile. “This is going to take a while. Have a good night, man.”

“Yeah, you too.” Tomás replied, his usual jest nowhere to be found.

Amaia closed the front door behind Tomás. They dipped into hushed tones as their conversation began. I turned away, granting Elie no more than two quick knocks before making my way in. Fuck, wait, privacy. I’d never gotten any of that, but hey, here’s to gentle parenting or whatever.

I took an awkward step back, “I’m coming in,” I said, cracking it open. No protests came, only silence. Suckerpunch and Harley rushed the doorway at my entrance, tails thumping against the only portion of the floor not covered in various rugs. I gave them both a tap on the head then stepped inside, shutting the door quietly.

The room was once Prescott’s personal library. His collection was vast, ranging from literary greats, to a weird amount of books about birds. Similar to Amaia, Elie had insisted on keeping Prescott’s presence here strong and adding their own touches here and there instead.

Heavy orange curtains hung across the large wall to ceiling window, her twin sized bed shoved right in front. Mix matched patterned pillows were tousled across the bed, resting against the wall and the plants lining the window-pane. They matched the vibrant colored oriental rug that spanned most of the wooden floor. A floor that was now covered in torn pages from Prescott’s precious books.

In the center of it all sat Elie, knees to her chest, chin resting on top. Her light blue jeans were darkened with tear stains, streaked through with old coffee splatters from her shift in The Kitchens.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” I said, leaning against the door.

“Oh, screw you.” She didn’t look up.

I pushed off the heavy oak and into the room, lowering myself onto the floor beside her. Harley wandered over and flopped down belly-up. Elie’s hand moved instinctively to swipe her fingers through the dark as night fur.

“We gotta talk about this, Elie,” I said.

“No, we really, really don’t.”

I sighed and leaned back on my hands. “I mean, sure. If you want to stay angry at the world and end up like me, be my guest.”

“What’s so bad about that?” she said, finally glancing my way. Ah . There it was. That hint of defiance in her red-rimmed eyes. “You seem relatively well-adjusted.”

“Relatively,” I admitted with a shrug. “It works when you’ve got someone like Amaia in your corner. But when you don’t? It’s a lonely, miserable existence.”

“There’s no point. She’s just going to die too.”

The moment they left her lips, my veins ran cold, every ounce of warmth ripped away. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” she snapped back. All ferocity and malice, but also, fear. “You think she’s invincible? Just wait until she leaves the gates with Riley. The second things go south, she’s gone.”

I stared at her, forcing myself to see the child that was hurting standing in front of me and not someone purposely antagonizing me. Hitting a spot they knew would hit deep. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You came into my room and bothered me. ”

“Yeah, because Amaia and Riley care about you. It’s killing them to see you like this. It’s killing all of us. ”

“Drama queen.” She rolled her eyes, pressed off the floor and onto her bed, sitting cross-legged against the wall.

I stayed where I was and turned my body to face her. “Your life doesn’t suck. Grow up. People die, it’s an apocalypse, and we’re stuck in some made-up community inside a made-up territory with a piece of paper everyone calls an alliance, which means jack shit when someone like Ronan Moore exists.”

Her expression shifted to one of horror as she leaned back against the window. A pillow reached its tipping point, taking a small plant with it as it tumbled into a mess of dirt on her colorful quilt. The dogs perked up, their eyes sweeping the surroundings before settling back down.

“What’s wrong?” I asked with bitter sarcasm. “I’m only saying the quiet part out loud. That’s what you were thinking, right? I get it.”

“Do you?” Her voice cracked but her eyes stayed locked on mine. Angry. Hurt. Sad. Guilt. All of it lingered there, fighting for a brief moment to shine, to allow her to grieve what she had already lost and what she feared could be taken next.

“No.” I stood up and took a seat next to her on the edge of the bed. “I gotta be honest, kid… If I had the support that you do, at your age, I wouldn’t be the shithead I am now.”

She didn’t respond. Her fingers worked at the edges of her nails, pulling at the cuticles, her gaze fixed downward. I recognized the habit. The need to do something, anything, to keep from unraveling completely.

“Life sucks, and then you die,” I continued. “That’s the only guarantee you get. The only promise in everyone’s life. But how you deal with the bullshit while you’re stuck on this floating rock? That’s up to you.”

Her shoulders sagged, the fight draining from her frame. I waited, watching as she swallowed hard, the tremor in her hands barely visible.

“At first, I was angry. I mean, I’m still angry, just not as much. Now I’m sad. Kind of confused. But mostly, I think … I think I’m mourning the realization that I was never enough,” Elie said, her voice broke on a choked sob. “She left us. My mom. She decided Dad was never coming back and in the same breath took away our mom. And then Rex left too. He checks in on me every few days, but he’s not the same. He’s … not here. Not really present. Refuses to talk about anything of the past. ‘Forward thinking only.’ I feel like I don’t even know who he is anymore. My brother—he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t see how much I need him, and that … that makes everything so much worse. Last year, I had a mom, I had a dad, and I had a brother. Now? I have none of that. Four months ago, I had Prescott. He was the one who helped things make sense when Amaia wasn’t here. Now he’s gone too.”

I gave her a moment, letting the tremble in her voice settle. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. I didn’t speak. Didn’t try to fix it. Because there was no fixing this.

“You know, all I can think sometimes is how selfish they are.”

“Who?” I asked. My first word in minutes.

“My mother. Prescott. They gave up in the end.”

I could have pushed back, told her she was wrong. But that wasn’t my place, and it wasn’t what Elie needed.

“My mom gave up in the end too,” I admitted. “Except she chose to die long before she physically left this earth.”

Elie turned her head toward me, confusion in her tear-filled eyes.

“Pills,” I said flatly. “Made it easier to swallow what our father was doing to us. All of us.”

“I think it was the bottle for her in The Before. That’s what I remember—I’m pretty sure. But once we got here, she was better. I thought she was better.”

“Amaia—” Shit .

“Please don’t tell her. I know she says she’s better,” Elie interrupted. “But … but maybe if she never broke in the first place, things would be different.”

“Only people that would know that as fact is a Seer .”

“Sure, I’ll go ask Abel. Be right back,” she shot back and rolled her eyes.

I stood, tossing my head toward the door. “Why not? He’s only a few streets down. Come on, I’ll go with you.” I offered her a hand.

She took it reluctantly. “I don’t understand.”

“If that’s what you think. Then go and find out. No one is stopping you.”

Elie snatched her hand back and planted her feet. She crossed her arms, brow arching with annoyance.

“Thought so,” I said, striding over and giving her a small shake of the shoulders. “Be angry. That’s fine. That’s normal. I reckon Reina would say it’s healthy in moderation. But stop pretending everyone around you is to blame for the actions of others. We aren’t in their heads. I didn’t know Prescott well, but considering he was basically Amaia’s dad, I’m assuming self-sacrificial shit runs in the family.

“They’re soldiers first , Elie. Riley too. They have a job to do. A job they love because it means they get to protect the people they care about. That includes you. Love the people around you while you can. They could be dead tomorrow.”

“Some pep talk,” she grumbled with a huffed laugh. “She really sent you in here? You kinda suck at this. I think I actually feel worse.”

“I came in here by choice because this isn’t a pep talk—it’s a reality check. One you needed. Bad.” I turned and walked toward the door then paused. “In my experience, shit will always feel worse until, one day, it doesn’t suck as bad anymore.”

I opened the door. Amaia stood there, her doe eyes snapped to mine immediately. She was drained, the kind of tired that went deeper than purely physical exhaustion.

“Alexiares … Amaia,” Elie said, her voice faint but strong enough to stop us in our tracks. “Please don’t die. Not in a few weeks meeting with the others. Not during this stupid war. Not anytime soon.”

I swiveled in place to face her. Breath escaped me as I was engulfed in a hug. The force knocked me off balance, her head pressed against my chest. I didn’t know what to do with my hands.

Amaia stepped in and I wrapped an arm around her, bringing her into the embrace. Her shoulders loosened, a bit of warmth emanating in her complexion once more. She tugged Elie closer. “We’ll do our best.”