Wednesday nights with Xelan.

Tameka sat cross-legged in her backyard, waiting for him to show up. In the meantime, she checked a small compact mirror. Black eyeliner emphasized the bright green of her eyes, made all the more exotic for her black freckles and tawny brown skin. She’d tied back her red coils and dressed in workout gear, completely confident in the sports bra without a shirt.

A duffel bag flew over Tameka’s privacy fence and landed on the plush grass. Her heart raced as Xelan followed with the easy bound of a graceful cat. Only then, did Tameka wonder if her parents could see them. She spared a glance over her shoulder to ensure the enormous boughs of her family’s oak tree sheltered their training space.

Yup.

All alone.

With Xelan.

“Hey.” Tameka tried for casual, but the greeting came out breathy. How could she help herself? He made cargo pants and a t-shirt look good, filled out by his muscular thighs and broad shoulders.

Xelan gave her a radiant smile, oblivious to her attraction. “Hey. All set?”

She clapped her hands in their fingerless gloves. “Yup.” Aware of how much he was about to kick her ass, Tameka assumed their first basic stance.

“Here. Bring your feet closer together. And…” Xelan adjusted her fists so her arms better blocked her face. “There.”

The contact left Tameka breathless. He smelled cozy, like the Callahan’s bookstore. His hands were hot, unusually so. In fact, he radiated warmth in every sense of the word. Again, she breathed, “Thanks.”

Xelan gripped a vinyl pad in each hand, saying, “So like with Kyle, Rayne, and Sagan, you punch this as hard as you can.”

Tameka gave it her all.

“Good.” When Xelan grinned, it melted her. “Have you done this before?”

Feeling a little proud of herself, Tameka preened. “I’ve taken some self-defense classes.”

He dropped the pads and faced her. “All right, then. Show me what you’ve got.”

Tameka feigned a punch before kicking Xelan’s knee.

Before the kick landed, he jumped back and caught her foot.

Quick to react, she spun and kicked him with the other leg.

Xelan leaned out of the way and dropped her foot.

Never one to forget a skill, Tameka kip-upped back to her feet.

With wide eyes, Xelan looked impressed. He nodded with approval and said, “Awesome.”

While his praise meant the world to Tameka, she was too busy leaning over and breathing hard to celebrate. She held up a finger. “Give me a second.”

With his hands on his hips, Xelan looked up and admired the stars, while Tameka caught her breath. He chuckled unexpectedly, and when she quirked a brow, he said, “I should’ve known you would put up the best fight.”

Tameka straightened and dared to step closer, gazing at the stars with him. “Why is that?”

“Did your parents tell you anything unusual about the day you were born?”

That widened Tameka’s eyes, but she knew what he was speaking to. “About the lights going out in the hospital?”

Xelan faced her with regard and awe in his eyes. “You were the first Progeny born in this generation, and the entire grid went down. Not only the hospital complex, but the surrounding area.”

Tameka felt the need for activity, so she grabbed the pads and handed them to Xelan. While he got in position, she said, “You’re talking as if you know from firsthand experience.”

“Well, I was there.”

Tameka blinked.

Xelan’s eyes softened with sorrow as he said, “We look after the Progeny. I cared for your mother as I care for you, but I couldn’t be in your lives. Not for thousands of years now.”

After she landed a right hook, he nodded for her to go again. While they trained, she asked, “Why not?”

Again, the sorrow haunted Xelan. “Persecution. I would visit, leaving them alive and thriving. But within the next decade, when I returned, I would find their homes had burned to the ground. Or worse. Being born different is dangerous, so The Brethren stopped informing the Progeny of their birthright. Even now.”

Tameka wet her lips before asking, “Xelan, can I tell my mother?”

He looked away and bit his thumbnail, respecting her question with thorough contemplation. After a long moment, he said, “Only if you trust her completely to believe you. Otherwise, you risk endangering your freedom to train, at best. Or at worst, she may call the cops on me and send you to a mental health facility.”

Well, wasn’t that discouraging? But Tameka wanted to protect her family from the invasion. How could she do that without telling them?

“I think I know where you’re headed with this. The Brethren have assured me of measures to protect the Progeny—all the Progeny—when the day comes. Me training you is simply another precaution.”

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Tameka nodded. “Yeah. That makes me feel better. Is there anything else I should do?”

Xelan blew the air out of his cheeks as he considered her question. He said, “You can stash weapons at places you frequent, so when the Icari invade, you’re prepared.” Gently, he gripped Tameka’s shoulder. “But the best thing you can do now is train.”

Stronger and faster didn’t happen overnight.

Tameka gazed up at Xelan and admired the midnight ring around his otherwise black eyes.

Wait.

Tears.

Why was she seeing tears—

Light exploded in Tameka’s eyes, and she went numb—

Not numb.

Sucking agony throbbed in her chest while blood poured from a gaping hole in her sternum.

{6,000bce}

“You were right!” Xelan cried from the entryway. Under normal circumstances, that phrase delighted Merit to hear. Unfortunately, this time he followed it with a grunt as he fell to one knee.

She dropped the Icarean book and hurried to his side with a cry. “My love!”

Xelan slumped face first to the earthen floor.

Merit pushed him over onto his back and hissed. “Who did this?!”

There was a hole in his chest. It gaped and gushed rich, blue blood. More astonishing than the wound itself, was that it would not heal. Merit hissed. “What happened?”

“Colita. She revealed our plans to Nox.” Xelan winced as she peeled cerulean-soaked cloth from skin. Through pained gasps, he said, “Korac ambushed me and took me to Nox’s chambers. He told me to stand aside and let him deal with the vermin, himself. Then he repeated everything back to me that I’d confided in Colita over the last two years.”

Merit asked, “Do they know of the Pretiosum Cruor?” Her tone was urgent and firm.

Xelan looked down the length of his body to her hands on the wound as he said, “No. I never told her of it. Please give me more credit than that.”

Merit pulled her wrap off her red hair and packed his wound. “Why does this not heal?” She tried to conceal a sniffle with her words.

Xelan must have heard the panic in her voice and reached for her dark hand with his pale, bloody one. “Merit. Love, look at me.”

Slowly, she brought her eyes to meet his. Xelan said, “It will not heal any longer.”

Merit cried, “No, no, why not?” Her voice shook, and tears filled her eyes.

With a wince, Xelan cupped her cheek. “Nox took my nacre.”

Merit shook her head, still cradled in his hand. She asked, “What will we do? Tell me, what can I do?”

“Leave me. Warn Celindria and the others. None of you are safe—”

Another cry tore from Merit’s lips. “I will not leave you!” She took his hand from her face and laced their fingers together. His pale. Hers dark. Yin and yang.

The salt of her tears burned her face, and the gravity of her decision weighed heavily on her heart. “Wait here, Xelan. I will fetch you some water.”

Xelan muttered between choking coughs. “Must. Tell. Celindria.”

Merit turned the corner into his laboratory. She found a razor-sharp instrument on his worktable. Jabbing a cork stopper into her mouth, she shoved the instrument under her breastbone. The immediate pain brought her to her knees, and she furiously bit into the stopper to stifle a wail. Yet even as she worked, she could feel the regenerative properties of the nacre healing the fresh wound around the scalpel. Quick. She had to work quick.

After several tries and much screaming around the bit, Merit returned to Xelan. He was laying where she’d left him. Still. So very still. “My love?”

No answer nor flinch.

Not a single reaction.

Merit said, “Xelan, I brought the water.” She set her emerald eyes on the face she loved for forty years and crashed to her knees beside him. “No! You cannot leave me!”

Xelan’s eyes were fixed to the ceiling, unblinking and unseeing. Blood streamed from his gaping mouth.

Merit gritted her teeth, vowing, “I will not allow you to die!” Ripping his shirt, she considered the wound.

Just below the brain stem in Xelan’s chest, Merit found a chamber similar to the one near her heart. She pulled the delicate pearl computer from the folds of her wrap and worked her way into his chest cavity. Sweat beaded on her brow and dripped from her lip. The salt mingled with her tears. Her vision swam with little black dots, and it became more difficult to breathe. All that aside, she smiled when she felt the chamber swallow the nacre.

“Yes! Save him!” Merit croaked. She rocked on her knees as she watched. Until finally she swayed all the way over, laying along the length of him. She forced her lungs to drink air in and expel it out. Heavy eyelids refused to stay open. A hitch caught her breath, and she felt it echo in her pulse as it slowed. She was dying.

But Merit only wanted to live long enough to see him move his eyes. In a voice light as air, she commanded, “Breathe.”

Xelan’s chest heaved hard enough to bow his spine. His great swallow of air punched into his lungs. The wound stitched closed as if the two halves no longer wanted to be apart.

She knew how they felt.

Merit rasped, “Xelan, listen. I cannot be with you much longer, for I fear your desperation.”

Slowly, he turned his head, with his mouth gaping for air. Xelan’s fresh tears told Merit he was listening.

“I will not risk you for the revolution needs you far greater than it need I.” She coughed and copper blood filled her mouth. “Thank you for finally seeing me. All I ask is that you not waste time with the next love. See them and know them. Be with them. Know that I am… always… with you.”

Horror and grief filled Xelan’s eyes. Unable to take the sight any longer, Merit thrust the instrument the rest of the way into her heart.

As she considered whether she believed in an afterlife, Merit decided she wanted her last words to make a mark. To leave the most lasting impression and summarize her personality in one last breath.

“Take… The bitch’s… Head.”

{September 2002}

Air.

Tameka tried to breathe, but she couldn’t take in any air—

A punch to her sternum brought Tameka back to her actual body, laying on the grass in her backyard. Xelan stopped pumping compressions onto her chest and wiped an unsteady hand down his face. Into it, he said, “Tameka. Tameka, I’m so sorry.”

Questions flooded her mind, but first…

She reached up and cupped Xelan’s jaw. Not only did he let Tameka do it, but he leaned his face into it with a little hiccuping sob. So warm. Xelan’s soul felt like a well of kindness from which Tameka would never completely draw to the bottom.

He swallowed and said, “I tried to revive Merit, your ancestor, but I couldn’t. Nox ripped my nacre from my chest, but I escaped before it killed me. I escaped to warn Merit, but she… She thought herself worth less than me and gave me her nacre before I could stop her. Then, she…”

Tameka had felt the knife to her heart. The resolve to keep Xelan from reversing the nacre swap. But above all of it, she’d felt Merit’s love and devotion for him. Tameka said, “She would never have forgiven you if you’d died while she could save you. Don’t tarnish her sacrifice with guilt.”

Xelan turned his closed eyes up to the sky and swallowed hard enough for Tameka to see the movement, as if he could physically swallow his grief. When he met her eyes again, he’d found some peace. Gently, he took her hand from his jaw and placed it with the other on her abdomen.

“Thank you. What about you? Are you all right?”

Tameka had to give the question some serious thought. Her ancestor and Xelan had been an item, which had ended tragically. Feeling all of Merit’s emotions actually made Tameka feel better about her crush on Xelan. Like he’d earned her trust across multiple lifetimes.

“Yeah. I think I am. Will you help me up?”

Xelan lifted Tameka easily to her feet, and for a second, she stared up at him a breath apart. Awkwardly, he stepped back and cleared his throat before asking, “Uhm. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tameka flexed her fists, feeling in command of her own body. She resumed her stance and squared off with Xelan. “Let’s get back to this.”

He was still frowning with concern as he said, “We can call it a night, if you need—”

“No. No, because now I have a personal vendetta to take up with the King of Cinder and his blood whore. Teach me how to kick their asses so I can repay them for Merit’s death.”

A little grimly and a whole lot determined, Xelan said, “Gladly.”