Strange Love Read online

  Ryzven seemed to have some reservations about that conversation as well because he said quickly, “My apologies. It seems I must attend to other matters for a time. You’ll wait for me.” It didn’t come across as a question, though that would’ve been polite.

  No. I definitely won’t.

  She held the words in, somehow, and he wheeled away, pushing through the throng to interrupt whatever conspiracy Kurr was attempting with Miralai. Beryl turned to Catyr, hoping he knew something.

  “Do they confide in you?”

  “Not entirely. But I trust Kurr when they say they will punish him.” No question that Catyr meant Ryzven. “And I will be content regardless. When my intended perished to the Destroyer, I almost gave up hope. Kurr is proof that even in deepest despair, life rebounds.”

  That required no verbal response, and it was too loud to permit easy conversation anyway. A flurry of movement caught her eye, and with the lights strobing, it was tough to make out exactly what was happening. Flash, a frond wrapped around Ryzven’s skull. Flash, Kurr was drifting away, back toward Beryl and Catyr, though they were hampered by the crowd. Then it looked like Miralai and Ryzven might be arguing, possibly about her presence at the party, but before they exchanged more than a few words, Ryzven dropped like a rock. His chitinous body hit the floor, his claws scraping hard enough to leave deep runnels in the shiny surface as he convulsed.

  “Stop the music,” Miralai shouted.

  Suddenly, chaos ensued, with guests fleeing the scene, not wanting to be caught on site with so much evidence of criminal debauchery. Kurr and Catyr herded Beryl toward the door, presumably for the same reason, but as she glanced back, she thought she saw Miralai dumping a packet of glittering silver chem into Ryzven’s mandible. But the lights were still flashing, so maybe—

  “Hurry,” Kurr ordered.

  Obligingly, she quickened her step, keeping up with the mass exodus. Cramming into the sky-car was hell, and she didn’t take a deep breath until they got out at the dorms. Knowing it was futile to ask, she waited until they reached Kurr’s room.

  “Someone tell me what the hell just happened,” she demanded, as soon as the door shut behind them.

  “White noise, no eavesdropping mode,” Catyr said.

  The terminal obligingly created a whoosh, and a flicker of light glimmered at the edges of the room. Beryl figured that meant that even electronic snooping would be blocked. Handy.

  “As I said, I seized an opportunity. I killed Ryzven, a blood price for what he took from Catyr and me.”

  “You…killed him?” With just a touch of their frond.

  “Poison spores,” Catyr explained. “Greenspirits make for deadly foes, though the production is debilitating.”

  “True.” Kurr wilted a little, fronds pale and withered, evidence of that crime. They didn’t seem concerned about that, as they drifted over to the earth bed and sank down roots with a rustle of contentment.

  “You’ll be caught and executed! The Council will—”

  “No,” Kurr cut in. “They will not. I have done more than murder my greatest enemy. I have also culled his house from the face of Barath. Just now, I came to an agreement with Miralai. Her offspring will come to Catyr and be added to the registry of House Ka’mat. Ryzven shall be erased, as if he never lived, and due to him dying of…overindulgence, no one will question his shamed nest-guardian when she chooses to process his remains at once and move on.”

  “Holy shit,” Beryl breathed.

  “What type of excrement is sacred?” Catyr asked.

  Beryl waved a hand, impatient. “If I have this straight, Miralai made it look like Ryzven overdosed, to cover up the poison, in case of inquiry. In return, she gets her freedom and a fresh start. Catyr gains two nest-guardians and a clutch? And you…”

  “I have two potential new loves to help me heal, and a family waiting for my care,” Kurr said simply. “Since we ranked so highly, and Miralai is so recently bereaved, the Council will likely approve our request. They will not wish for her clutch to be penalized for their sire’s transgressions.”

  “It’s perfect as long as Miralai gets rid of the body quickly.” Yeah that sounded heartless, but Beryl couldn’t waste a second of regret on Ryzven, who had loved making Zylar’s life hell, and he hadn’t given a shit who he hurt in the process.

  “She will. And when the Council finds out that excess chem was involved, they’ll want the matter closed as soon as possible.”

  “You’re a smooth talker,” Beryl said in admiration. “All of that, promised and agreed within a few moments? Damn.”

  “Miralai had known of Ryzven’s habits for a long time and had been miserable for much of their bond. And I didn’t work alone. Somehow, she already knew about his intentions toward you and was astute enough to fear for her life, so she came to the party intending to…resolve the situation. Whatever that entailed.”

  Beryl stared, her eyes widening. “She was there to end him, basically.”

  “I asked for that honor. His life was mine to take. And no one should be forced to end an intimate relationship in that manner. It would have scarred her.”

  “Huh. I guess I was expecting more,” Beryl said. “Like, explosions or a Machiavellian plot or for you to burn his house down—”

  “The translation is unclear, but it conveys some measure of disappointment. Ryvzen’s reputation is ruined, his legacy destroyed. I took his life. I claimed his family as my own. How is this not the consummate revenge? What else of value did he possess?”

  When you put it that way…

  Beryl turned to Catyr to ask, “And you’re good with this?”

  “This outcome is better than I could have dreamed. Kurr has proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that they will do whatever it takes to protect our family. And now, I will no longer face a lonely future.”

  Hell, everything had aligned so perfectly that Beryl got the shivers. Maybe there were some sentient trees tugging on the strings somehow.

  For the first time in what felt like forever, though it hadn’t been that long, she relaxed fully. Tension drifted out of her shoulders, as she realized that she and Zylar had a shot at being approved, now that the Council could deliberate without Ryzven whispering his toxic bias. In fact, his scandalous demise might even help their cause, because anything that Ryzven had deplored in life might appear more meritorious by contrast.

  “Then…that means I can pack my stuff and go home, right?”

  “I see no reason for you to linger. You hate it here,” Kurr said gently.

  “Hug?” Beryl went over to where her friend was rooted and waited to be encircled in drooping gray fronds. Good to know murder wasn’t easy, even for implacable plants.

  “You have been a true friend, Beryl Bowman. I will remember. And so will the ancient grove. Always.”

  [ 23 ]

  “Ryzven is dead.” Helix cut into Zylar’s grim thoughts with that astonishing statement. Then he displayed a holo of the announcement the Council had prepared, which was mostly empty platitudes, ending with the revelation that all Choosing-related decisions would be delayed.

  It’s over.

  That thought came with remarkable finality, as he had no doubt that Kurr was behind this somehow—that they had succeeded in their revenge. Numbly, he stayed with the clutch until Miralai returned, though he’d lost track of time by that point. He had a thousand questions, but she looked so drained by whatever had happened that he didn’t have the heart to interrogate her.

  Zylar simply said, “I’ll offer condolences if that would be appropriate.”

  The membrane in her eyes fluttered. “It would not. Thank you for watching over them for me.”

  “It was no trouble, not here in the city.” In other parts of Barath, the title—and role—of nest-guardian was less ceremonial. “Will you be all right on your own?”

  Surprisingly, she churred. “Assuredly. The details have already been settled and Ryzven’s remains are being processed as we spe
ak.”

  “So quickly?” It was a bit shocking that she’d rushed through the rites and that Ryzven would be reduced to dust so swiftly after death.

  A small, bitter part of him took bleak pleasure in that haste, as if Ryzven had been a weighty burden Miralai couldn’t wait to shed. Possibly, it was even true, which made these events even sweeter.

  Don’t ever anger a Greenspirit.

  “The next time we meet, I will no longer be kith,” she said then. “I’ve petitioned to join Catyr and Kurr, and I will bring my clutch to Ka’mat.”

  Zylar sucked in a sharp breath. Suddenly he understood so much—not the details perhaps, but he had the big picture, and this, this was a glorious revenge indeed, layers on layers of dishonor and disrespect. Ryzven’s progeny would never hear of him and their deeds would glorify Kith Ka’mat.

  “Peace and prosperity to you,” he said formally.

  She echoed the phrase, then Zylar collected Snaps, who was still sleeping soundly. It would spoil the dignity of his exit if he scrabbled to attach the lead on the fur-person, who tended to roll around and kick his limbs if he didn’t want to be bothered. Miralai escorted them out, and Zylar carried Snaps to the nearest platform, where he boarded an empty pod and gazed out with unseeing eyes. With Ryzven gone, he should feel triumph and joy, but those emotions were impossible with the truth burning in his brain. Now, instead of eagerly racing home to see if Beryl had returned, he dreaded the answer instead. Because as much as he longed for her, he feared revealing what Helix had done even more.

  We stole her. Ruined her life. Made her believe she could never go home.

  When he entered his residence, he sensed her right away. She’d left a bliss-bright scent trail everywhere she moved, and the scent was sunlight warmed by her ridiculously soft skin. Her things were piled in the common room, just a few garments and the bedding she’d crafted for them. He heard her moving about the hygiene facility, making musical noises as she did when she was pleased.

  Will she hate me when she knows?

  “Shall I apologize now?” Helix asked.

  “No. Let me speak with her first.” His words were terse, matching his mood.

  Gently, he set Snaps down in the pile of fabric that Beryl enjoyed nesting in, hoping the fur-person would grant privacy for this difficult task. Luck was with him, as Snaps grumbled and flopped onto his side.

  Then Zylar went into their shared space to wait. He couldn’t look directly at the nest because he might never share it with her again. And he couldn’t go to her as she cleansed herself, because seeing her, all bare and open, would make him desire sexual contact that he might no longer be qualified to receive from her.

  I am so sorry. Please believe that I had no idea.

  Finally, she came out, wrapped in another strip of cloth, and her whole face brightened. He’d come to understand how her features moved, somewhat. Right now, her eyes gleamed and she was showing teeth, signs of great happiness.

  “You’re finally back!” She launched herself at him.

  And he caught her, of course he did, careful as always with his claws. She wrapped all four limbs around him and kissed the soft spot at the base of his neck. Pleasure and warmth curled through him, wrapped around the mating drive, but he didn’t let himself respond more physically to her obvious desire.

  She chattered, not picking up on his mood for once, and into his silence, she poured out the story of what happened between Ryzven, Kurr, and Miralai, taking gleeful pleasure in the way Ryzven died spasming on the floor of his den of hedonistic horror. Finally, she seemed to run out of words, at last tapping into his dour aspect.

  “Zylar? What’s wrong?”

  Now. Tell her now. Or you’ll be tempted to keep her—and this secret—forever. Almost, almost, he was willing to do that, if it meant a life with Beryl Bowman. But no. Love meant treasuring someone else’s happiness more than your own. And he did love her, fiercely, endlessly, with both of his beating hearts.

  He would until the day he died. Even after she left him.

  “There’s something you must know.”

  Setting her on her feet, he moved away to distance himself from her inevitable reaction, and then he told her everything, as he learned it from Helix. She didn’t speak throughout his recitation, only stood still and quiet.

  “I’m sorry,” he concluded. “I promise I had no idea. But I can make it right. It’s not too late. We can leave right now if you wish.”

  When he had nothing left to say, no apologies or excuses, she let out an airy sound. “You’ll take me home. That’s what you’re saying?”

  Pain cracked through him, as if he had been blasted or impaled. How will I live without her? Even as a drone, he would remember and long for her. “Yes.”

  “Are you tired of me?” she asked unexpectedly.

  “Never. But—”

  “This is why I love you,” she whispered, closing the distance between them. Beryl touched his neck ruff, and as ever, it flared, presaging the exquisite, shocking pleasure she always offered.

  “I don’t understand.” Or rather, he feared the light of hope sparking inside him like a dying power pack.

  “You didn’t have to tell me, but you opted to give that power back to me. From the very beginning, you’ve always respected my right to choose. I could go back, and it’s nice knowing that door is open, but I don’t want to. I choose you. Over and over, I will always pick you.”

  His brain flared with a crash of delight. This was all the glory and triumph he’d expected to feel over Ryzven’s death, his own private Choosing. “You are everything to me. I can’t believe you want to stay, even knowing—”

  “My life is here with you. I love you so much that it hurt, just being away from you for a little while. I might actually die if you dump me back where you found me.”

  “Every fiber of me belongs to you. It felt as if the world lost all color when I thought that I must let you go.”

  “And I love that you did the right thing. But for me, my old life would be a miserable exile because I wouldn’t see you or touch you or—”

  “Beryl,” he growled, not trying to control his visceral response to her maddening, delicious words any longer.

  “Yes?”

  “You understand, I can’t take you to visit. Not easily. I might have been able to manage a covert drop-off, but your people…”

  “Aren’t ready for first contact. I know. And I’m good with that. I do miss food from home, but you’re worth that sacrifice. Worth any price I have to pay, in all honesty, because meeting you is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  His chitin felt too small, as if it couldn’t contain this much joy, this much pleasure. Adoration and arousal warred within him, so intense that he struggled to speak. His neck ruff quivered with each soft stroke, and he stopped fighting the yearning. The plates parted, revealing his shameless, explicit need.

  “I took away your homeworld,” he said softly.

  “But you gave me the universe.”

  Beryl saw the moment Zylar accepted that she really, truly wanted to stay. Sure, she’d miss cheeseburgers, but she hadn’t been exaggerating when she said Earth wasn’t ready for aliens to show up. If she tried taking Zylar for a visit, they’d snatch him up, and he’d die locked up in some secret government lab.

  With careful tenderness, he swept her close, shaking so hard that she could feel it, even through his chitin. She leaned her head against his thorax and reveled in the feel of his claws sifting through her hair.

  Finally he said, “I still cannot quite believe it, but I won’t question my good fortune. I’ve confessed everything, so now our original plan holds.”

  “The one where we leave Barath if the Council doesn’t approve us?”

  “Yes.”

  “Without Ryzven interfering, our chance of passing should be better now,” she said, hoping that was true.

  “I suspect so, but the outcome is no longer in doubt. The only question that re
mains to be answered is where we will build our lives together.”

  Beryl grinned, absolutely delighted with the assertiveness of that declaration. “Confidence looks fantastic on you.”

  “Permission to speak?” Helix cut in before Zylar could respond.

  The question amused Beryl because technically, the AI was already talking, but she remembered Zylar telling him to stay out of their private space. But he must have been listening, at least somewhat, or he wouldn’t have heard when Zylar said, “Granted.”

  “Beryl Bowman, I apologize for any harm or distress I caused with my ruse. My offense may be beyond all reasonable forgiveness parameters, but it is correct that I express remorse for my actions.”

  “Your heart was in the right place,” she said, wondering if that idiom would translate.

  “Inaccurate. I have no internal organs.”

  Yeah, it was worth a try. She gave it another shot. “Your intentions were good. Everything you did came from wanting to help Zylar. I’m not saying I’m thrilled about being abducted and deceived, but I don’t want a do-over. Honestly, this is probably the only way we could’ve ended up together. I mean, if he’d showed up on Earth asking me to consider an alien love connection…”

  “You would have declined,” Helix supplied.

  “I’d put it in more colorful terms, but yeah. You got us together, and I’m so happy with the results that I’m inclined to overlook the rest.”

  “Does this mean that you forgive me?”

  “Correct,” Beryl said.

  “Then I must bid you both farewell.”

  Shocked, Beryl eased back from Zylar’s hold so she could see his face. His nictitating membrane didn’t show any movement, so he’d already known that Helix planned to leave. “Are you banishing him because of what he did?”

  “Not exactly.” Then Zylar explained, informing her what this behavior really meant. “And that’s why he needs to go.”