“Who—”
“Your mother was prolific, especially in the realm of precognition. She saw many things.”
“Which house will fall?” I ask, not sure if I can trust what he believes to be true because it sounds like a bunch of freaky nonsense. But, even if it is nonsense, if the Alameeda believe it, it can become a self-fulfilling prophecy.
“I was hoping you could tell me that, Kricket,” he replies speculatively. “Come with me now and I’ll work with you to develop your gifts.”
“I don’t think I want that gift, Kyon. Especially when it can be used to pinpoint future Rafe positions and predict their next move.”
“Ah, so you’ve learned what some priestesses can do?” he asks. “You’ll participate, either way…you just need to choose a side…unless, you want to play for both sides.”
“What?” My hands begin to shake beneath the table.
“You’re a survivor…maybe you don’t have to choose a side, but play for both teams. A little information here…a little there…”
“You know, you remind me a lot of a foster father I once had, Kyon.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. His name was Daniel—Dan “the man.” That’s what all his friends called him at the bar on our street. They’d all shout it, too, whenever he walked through the door. I loved him as a kid; I actually loved that man,” I say shaking my head. “He taught me a lot. He showed me how to hustle so that I’d never go hungry on the streets of Chicago. He was educated and he spoke well; he taught me to speak well. He also taught me scams that kept a roof over our heads. He was great, until I turned fourteen and Dan thought he knew a new way for us to make money. One night, he came home drunk from the bar. He brought some friends with him. He offered me to them for money. When I fought them off with one of their broken beer bottles, he nearly killed me before he passed out. You’re a lot like him, Kyon. It’s there in your eyes. You’ll do anything to survive. I’ve made my decision. I’m Rafe, screw Alameeda.”
Kyon’s expression is grim. “I’m nothing like that human! I’m offering you a way out, Kricket,” he says defensively. “The Brotherhood will begin a smear campaign against you if you stay, making it look like you’re the real reason they’re going to war. You’ll be reviled wherever you go—in Rafe, in Comantre, in Peney—”
“I’m used to that, Kyon,” I reply. I lift up my shirt a little and show him my shank scar on my abdomen. “What else you got?” I ask, dropping my shirt and crossing my arms.
“He’s got a few circas of vista to drug you into going with him, Kricket. Don’t you Kyon?” Trey says from the doorway of the kitchen.
CHAPTER 18
ONE OF US
Kyon scowls at Trey as he enters the kitchen and stands next to my chair, pulling it out for me. “Kricket,” Trey says in a gentle voice, “go back to bed now.” Reaching down he takes my hand, helping me up. As I stand beside Trey, I squeeze his hand tighter, refusing to let go of him as I glare at Kyon.
“Why did you let me get past your security, Trey, if you didn’t intend to let her go with me?” Kyon asks, zeroing in on my hand in Trey’s. “I was beginning to believe that you intended for me to take her away so that you wouldn’t have to have her here anymore. No more reminders of what you can’t have.”
Trey scowls back at Kyon, looking insulted. “I wanted to let Kricket choose her allegiance—Alameeda or Rafe. Everything that she has encountered thus far has been thrust upon her,” Trey says. “She has handled it with grace, but we both know that war is inevitable now. If she had decided that she would be better off in Alameeda, then I would’ve let her go with you.”
“You know that she’ll be safer in Alameeda with me,” Kyon says with a smug smile. “You don’t like your odds, do you?”
“Maybe she would be safer…but I believe her exact words were, ‘screw Alameeda,’” Trey replies, and he can’t hide the pride in his voice.
“Sir,” Wayra says from the doorway behind Kyon, “I think her exact words were, ‘I’m Rafe, screw Alameeda.’” Holding a tricked-out automatic weapon pointed straight at Kyon, the grin on Wayra’s face is priceless.
“Yeah, that’s definitely what I heard,” Jax agrees from the doorway behind me. “Now can I shoot him?”
“You would risk her life because she doesn’t want to go with me?” Kyon asks them angrily. “You can’t win this war. We’ll annihilate every last one of you, especially you, Kricket. Traitors die horribly in Alameeda; the torture will go on for several rotations before it ends.”
“Can I shoot him now?” Jax’s face is dark with suppressed rage.
“Fenton, Drex,” Trey barks in a tight voice, “take Haut Kyon to the Regent police and have him restrained until Skye decides what to do with him. Wayra, Jax—go with them and make sure no one kills him. He has information we need.”
Fenton and Drex come in through the doorway behind Trey and me, searching Kyon and throwing several weapons and a couple of vials of what must be vista on the table. Seeing it, I shiver.
Kyon watches me the whole time, his face livid. “Kricket,” Kyon says in a soft tone, “the next time you see me, know that I’m not coming to take you home.”
“I’m already home, Kyon, but thanks for the warning,” I reply, raising my chin as his blue eyes narrow at me.
“Here,” Trey says, tossing a communicator to Jax. “This is a recording of the conversation between Kyon and Kricket. Make sure the Regent views it tonight, then we turn it over to Skye along with Kyon.”
“Yes, Sir,” Jax grins. Turning to Kyon and hauling him towards the door, Jax says, “How much do you want to bet that this is your ass, and before you ask me what an ass is, let’s just talk about what I think yours is worth.”
As the door closes behind them, I stand frozen in my spot by the table, not sure about what just happened or what it all means.
“Kricket, are you okay?”
I shake my head. “No…you were going to let me leave with Kyon?”
“Yes,” he answers, watching me struggle to remain calm.
“But…that goes against all of your orders. You could’ve been incarcerated—treated like a traitor. You’re supposed to keep me from the Alameeda, not let me go off and join them.”
“I know,” he agrees, looking at our hands tightly clasped together.
“So, if I wanted to leave…”
“I’d help you escape.”
“Because…”
“Because we’re going to go to war,” he replies, looking grim.
“You were allowing me to choose my own side…Rafe or Alameeda.”
“Yes…but I have another option for you, Kricket,” Trey says softly.
“What option?”
“You can choose to be human—at least you can go back…to Earth.” He eases his hand away from mine.
“What?” I ask, seeing he’s serious and feeling cold now that I have nothing to hold on to.