The Other Side of Truth (The Marked Ones Trilogy Book 3) (28 page)

A Promise

Thursday, December 20th and Friday, December 21st

NUALLA

I
should have probably gone home
after I left the drug store parking lot. But I didn’t. I just…couldn’t. So I went to a place that had always felt safe, a little bit of home.

The Coffee Press was still packed full even at this hour. Probably because it was pouring rain outside. Or the fact that it was one of the few places just for us that never closed. The Coffee Press was nearly as old as the city itself. One of the few buildings that had miraculously survived the 1906 Earthquake and the subsequent fires that nearly burned all of the city to the ground. The first Embassy hadn’t made it through that disaster, but this place had.

As I turned from the pickup counter, coffee mug in hand, I almost wanted to laugh…or cry. Our favorite booth was empty as if it had known I would be coming—as if it had been waiting just for me.

I slipped into the booth, setting my large mug—the same brilliant blue as the streaks in my hair—on top of the dented and worn dark wood of the table. And that’s when I saw them, the little markings that were numbers. The ones Travis had carved into the booth that night so long ago. The ones Emmy had bugged him about endlessly. The ones he had never told the meaning of. Not even to me.

1-8-1993

I traced my fingers over the markings. They were still here. But of course they were, it had only been a few years and these booths were over a hundred years old.

Pressing my back against the solid, dark wood, I pulled my knees to my chest. And then I just watched the people, my coffee mug clutched in both my hands resting on the tops of my knees. Gods, when was the last time I was here?

When the people started to get blurry and unfocused I closed my eyes. And as I breathed in the rich smell of my coffee I could almost pretend that Travis and Emmy were here with me. That any second, Emmy would suggest we do something crazy like dancing in a fountain or pretending we were spies on a secret mission. I kept my eyes closed for a long time, because as long as I didn’t open them, it could still happen—she could still be alive.

Sometime later—long after I had finished my coffee—I walked back up to the counter. Jenna, the current owner of shop, was flipping through things on the tablet register that was next to the shop’s original coffee grinder. And something about that juxtaposition of new and old made me want to laugh…or cry.

“I need a room for the night,” I said quietly.

“We’re all out of rooms, go find a hotel,” Jenna replied without looking up.

I pushed my wet tangled hair out of my face, and raised my eyes. “I need a room for the night,” I repeated a little more loudly.

“Didn’t you hear me the first time? We’re fresh out of—” she stopped abruptly when she realized who I was.

One of the many nights the three of us had took up residency in that booth, Emmy had told me a story about the Coffee Press. A story that ended with a promise. That if a member of the Galathea family asked for a room, they could not be turned away. I had never remembered to ask my dad if it was true, but as I stood there looking at Jenna, I wanted so badly for it not to be an urban legend.

Jenna sighed. “Let me see what I can do, Arius.”

I sat bolt upright as the scream ripped its way jaggedly though my throat. My heart beating painfully fast in my chest. And then I really started to panic. Because the chair at the foot of the bed, which had been empty when I had closed my eyes, now held a dark figure. A dark figure that leapt to their feet, blade in hand glinting in the pale shaft of cold dawn light coming through the window. But I didn’t have time to process the threat, because at nearly the same moment there was a loud crash like shattering glass and someone else burst through the door, gun drawn.

The door slammed against the wall so hard that it knocked a neighboring picture to the floor. Clattering across the wooden surface as the gunman in the doorway cursed loudly, “Spawn of a Kako feckin’ whore!”

And as he fumbled for the light switch and flicked it on, I could only gape at him open-mouthed. It was the guy from the Halloween rave. The dark-haired guy with the Kaigan Midoraian accent. The dark-haired guy whom I was pretty sure had been named Damian.

Completely ignoring my shocked incredulity, Damian slumped into a nearby chair. His gun hanging at his side so it brushed the floor. Breathing heavy like he had just run up Powell Street.

“What the fuck are
you
two doing here?!” I yelped incredulously.

Damian shifted his leather jacket to reveal something embroidered there. An emblem. Eight silver spokes radiating out in a circle, each spoke ending in an Egyptian lotus, and a vibrant lapis-blue filling the background of the emblem.

“You’re
Protectorate
?” I said skeptically.

“That we are,” Damian replied.

I sat there for a few more shocked moments before I asked, “So what are you doing
here
? You know,
besides
scaring the crap out of me.”

“We’re your security detail, Arius” the younger guy with honey-colored hair—James—answered as if he was apologizing for it.

“
Both
of you?” I asked dubiously.

“Most of the time it’s just one of us, if that makes ya feel less dodgy ‘bout us,” Damian replied unhelpfully. “Though, if it’s for your sake or ‘cause they think we’ll do a diabolical job, I’m not sure.”

I scowled at them. “Who gave you orders to follow me?”

“The Grand High Councilor, himself,” Damian answered as he ran his hand down his face.

Roy?
I couldn’t help the feeling of betrayal that washed over my face.

Damian looked up at me, and then sighed. “Look, don’t be mad at ‘im, he was just doin’ his job. Not all of us have a choice in what we become, you know,” he stated and then he stopped, and looked at me appraisingly. “Or maybe ya do.”

When I just continued to stare at him incredulously, his cocky demeanor faltered. “You do realize that once it hits that six month mark, they will
have
to name you as the next
chancellarius
, don’t ya?”

“Of course,” I lied, because I
hadn’t
known that. I had somehow failed to notice that such a law even existed.

“Then I don’t know why you’d be so surprised that they would want extra protection for ya. If somethin’ were to happen to ya, your region would be in a right bloody mess,” Damian stated, the cockiness returning as he leaned back, and draped his free arm behind his head and closed his eyes. And there was something about his attitude that had been thrilling before, but was now just irritating.

“How long?” I asked tersely.

“How long what?” Damian asked without opening his eyes.

“How long have you been
following
me?” I asked, folding my arms protectively across my chest.

“Since that night at the club, Arius,” James answered as he stood awkwardly next to his chair. Apparently still unsure if he should sit back in it or keep standing.

I narrowed my eyes dangerously at the two of them. “Were you following me
last
night?”

Damian opened his eyes, and gave me a don’t-be-stupid look. “I think ya already know the answer to that.”

“If you say a word about last night to anyone I will—”

Damian looked at me with deadly, serious eyes as he sat back up and slammed his feet on the dark wooden floor. “Arius, let’s get one thing straight. We will
never
ask ya about where you go or what ya do. We are here to
protect
you. Not to ask ya about secret rendezvous in drugstore parking lots when it’s lashin’ out,” Damian stated, his lips quirking up to one side as he finished. Apparently unable to resist.

I arched my eyebrows at him, and James ran a hand down his face. “Tact, Damian. There’s this thing called
tact
.”

Damian shrugged. “I said I would never
ask
. I never said
nothin’
‘bout not making comments.”

I continued to glare at him for a few minutes before I asked. “Just one more question before I kick you two out of this room.”

“But—” James started.

“You can patrol the hallway for all I care, but I’ll be
damned
if I let you two stay in here when I’m trying to frakkin’ sleep,” I snapped angrily, cutting him off.

Damian looked at me appraisingly again before he stood, and shoved his gun back in its holster. “Ask your question, Arius.”

“How did you know it was me and not…and not Kira?”

“The boots,” Damian replied simply.

“
Excuse
me?”

“Kira Varris never wears anything she couldn’t run for her life in,” Damian answered as he met my eyes, all traces of playfulness gone.

If You Weren’t So Damn Cute

Friday, December 21st

TRAVIS

W
hen I had said that
I would adopt Chan-rin it had been an impulsive response to Ashley’s threat. And even though I had said it then, it had never occurred to me to even consider the fact that someday I might be someone’s dad.

I stared up at my “I Want to Believe” poster which I had moved to above the couch. I was going to be a dad.
Me
. It was like the universe had gone frakkin’ crazy or something. I mean sure, I had basically sworn that I would adopt Chan-rin if need be, to keep her at The Embassy. But I hadn’t actually thought about it beyond that need to keep her here—keep her with us.

The door beeped, and I looked over.
Please be Parker. Please be Parker. Please be Parker.

Akiko stepped into my lab, her hand covering her eyes as the door slid shut again. “If anyone’s naked, please put your clothes back on,” she announced like the words were a shield.

I sighed, and looked back at the poster. “No one’s naked. It’s just me.”

There was something in my tone that must have tipped her off, because she asked, “Travis, are you okay?”

“No.” Because really I was about as far from “okay” as you could get.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked hesitantly after a moment.

I sat up abruptly. “No I don’t want to—” I stopped, realizing I was shouting at her. “Sorry, I’m a bit…” I apologized as I ran my hands down my face. “Never mind. Did you need something?” I asked, looking up at her.

“Just came to show you the reports of the KARA usage in The Embassy.”

I looked down at the tablet, before looking back up at her. “Couldn’t you just email me the reports?”

Akiko glared at me. “I
do
email them to you. You never
read
any of the reports I send you,” she said flatly.

I groaned and leaned back into the couch as I extended my hand to take the tablet from her. “Sorry, I’ve been…distracted.”

Akiko snorted. “
That’s
a good word for it.”

I rolled my eyes at her before I turned my attention to the reports. But as I scanned the information the lines began to blur together, and my mind started to wander off. I shook my head to clear it, but it didn’t help. There was no use, I wasn’t going to get anything done in the state I was in. I needed to talk to Parker, but after the way she had screamed at me last night, I doubted she was going to take my calls. So I had to go talk to the next best person—Nualla.

I set the tablet down on the couch, and stood up. “I’m taking the rest of the day off,” I informed Akiko as I stretched. “Monday too.”

“Can I ask why?” Akiko asked uncertainly.

I stopped stretching, but I didn’t look at her. Instead I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the other side of the room. “If you really want to know why, lookup December 24th, 1996 in my file.”

“Okay…” Akiko replied, concern tinting her voice. “What should I tell anyone who asks?”

I let my hands fall to my sides. “That I’m taking a mental health day, or I’m sick. Take your pick. It really doesn’t matter. The people who know will understand, and the others can just deal with it.”

As I finally looked at her she reached out and hugged me. And after a heartbeat or two I hugged her back with a heavy sigh.

“You’re trying to make me break down and cry again, aren’t you?” I said flatly.

“Sometimes crying is the only answer.”

NUALLA

I
walked out of the classroom
and practically groaned. Travis was standing in the hallway trying to look nonchalant and failing horribly at it.

I walked up to him, and sighed heavily. “What did you do now?”

“I frakked up.”

“Yeah I gathered
that
much,” I replied sarcastically.

He looked like he was about to have a nervous breakdown or throw up. Or both.

“Can we…can we go somewhere, or were you busy?” Travis asked uneasily, and that’s when I knew something was seriously wrong. He wasn’t even looking at me, instead his eyes were fixed firmly on his feet.

I reached out my hand, and took his in mine. “For you, I’m always free.”

The smile he returned was heartbreakingly tragic.

The roof was still wet from last night’s rain. The puddles mirroring the clouds in a rippling copy.

“So what did you do?” I asked as I nudged a leaf floating on the surface of a puddle with my boot.

After a moment or two of silence, Travis let out a heavy sigh. “I asked Parker to marry me.”

I spun around to face him. “You did
what
?!”

“I asked Parker to marry me,” Travis repeated.

I just stood there, my mouth hanging open in stunned surprise before I asked, “And what did
she
say?”

“She cried harder and yelled at me to get out,” Travis admitted with a grimace.

“You proposed to her when she was already
crying
?!” I asked in disbelief.

Travis threw out his arms in frustration. “What was I supposed to
do
? She was crying, and she had just found out she was pregnant, and—”

“When you say, ‘she had just found out she was pregnant’ you mean like several hours before, right?” he didn’t answer. “Thirty minutes?” He shook his head. “Ten?”

“Two,” he admitted, wincing.

“You
idiot
! No
wonder
she was so upset.
Gods
, you have even worse timing than your brother,” I chastised him. “No girl wants to feel like you’re only marrying her because you knocked her up. They want you to ask them because you
love
them! Because they’re your One.”

“Oh…
shit
,” Travis said slowly as if that had never occurred to him.

“Gods, I
swear,
if the two of you weren’t so damn cute,” I grumbled under my breath as I folded my arms.

Travis looked up quickly in a panic. “So what do I do now?”

“You tell her how you
really
feel and pray she doesn’t throw the nearest object at you,” I answered with narrowed eyes.

“
Nualla
,” he whined as if I was being completely unhelpful.

“
Seriously,
Travis. I mean, you
do
love her, right?” He looked a little queasy. “
Please
tell me you didn’t just sleep with her because ‘it seemed like a good idea at the time’?”

He looked up, and ran his hand back through his hair. “Um…well…”

“
Travis
!”

“Hey it’s basically what
you
did!” he pointed out with a scowl.

“But I
didn’t
sleep with him, I accidentally married him!” I shouted back indignantly.

“Cause that’s
so
much better,” Travis countered as he rolled his eyes, and folded his arms across his chest.

“Hey, don’t you
dare
push this on me.
You’re
the one who fucked up.”

Travis let out a heavy huff. “Right, sorry.”

I continued to glare at him a moment longer until my anger receded. “So, do you love her, or not? Because if the answer is
no
you are pretty much fucked.”

“Um…” Travis replied uneasily, the look like he might hurl returning to his face.

“Travis!” I snapped as I stamped my foot.

“The thought of being without her makes me want to walk into traffic,” he blurted out in a rush.

I glared at him. “Now, was that so frakking hard?”

“You have no idea,” he groaned as he buried his face in his hand.