{Cinder | Enki’s Conduit}
Kyle hated the stupid matching armored suits. He spent the last apocalyptic battle in a Hawaiian shirt, as Elden intended. The girls always liked coordination, but don’t the good guys wearing black and blue let the bad guys know who to kill? Besides, there were so many pockets in the damned thing he kept losing the stash Andrew made him.
The gear fit his form too well, all bulging biceps and thick quads—
What would Silence think?
Kyle literally slapped himself. Slowly, he glanced over to check and see if Andrew—
Yup, he caught that. And now, he was raising a brow at Kyle.
Perfect.
Another Shadow pep talk.
All this chatter in Kyle’s head should distract him from the threat to his sister. He intentionally tuned out of Ross’ frequency, electing to watch Xelan for developments on their team.
“She’ll be all right. Tameka knows what she’s doing.” Andrew wandered over, after all.
Kyle raked a hand violently through his curly mop and tangled his fingers at the ends. Frustrated, he wrenched through the strands with a growl. “How can anyone claim to predict Celindria’s actions? I spent a week with her in my head and still couldn’t tell you a damned thing about her motivations or plans. This is reckless.”
Andrew patted Kyle’s shoulders, biceps, forearms. The frisk went to his sides before Kyle shoved him. “What—Oh.”
Conscience held out a joint to Story Taker. “Please. Before I have to watch you slap yourself again.”
“Thanks.” Kyle lit it and took a hit, ashamed of his weakness. “I should be with her. And Bethany…”
Taking the joint from him, Andrew hit it next. “Look, you need to trust Xelan knows what he’s doing, and your sisters can handle themselves. Even little Bethany. Did you see her helping out? She’s coming out of her shell.”
Yeah, she was. Kyle was reluctant to admit it, but Korac did good with her. Ross could level a garrison with a passive flex of her memory muscle. Jack and Tameka wouldn’t let anything happen to her, which Kyle was also reluctant to admit about Rayne’s little brother. It’s just…
“I want them to live in a world where people aren’t trying to kill us all the time. There was that break after Volcano Day, but two years isn’t long enough. Not to mention where Bethany’s been since the invasion happened. I want… They deserve some—”
“Peace.” Andrew sounded sad, tired, and finished. He sounded as if he understood.
Kyle glanced at him and nearly flinched at the sorrow in his eyes, staring out across the army entering Sagan’s conduits without seeing a soul. Well, maybe one with golden eyes.
Yeah. Andrew got it.
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Kyle went back to work flitting through memory banks of hundreds of thousands of nacres. So many lives. And no sign of Imminent. “Anything on your end?”
“Naw. Their intentions are pure. Looking for peace as much as the next person.”
They carried on that way for another hour before Xelan stepped up. The look on his face…
“No. Is she okay?!” Kyle couldn’t keep the edge of hysteria from scratching his words.
Andrew placed a gentle hand on Kyle’s shoulder as Xelan said, “She’s unharmed, but Celindria has captured them.”
Kyle shut his eyes. Every second in that woman’s presence was a reminder of his fragile mortality. Stone. That’s what she was. Old and impervious to all but time. “Andrew, what are their chances?”
“If Celindria’s alone—”
Xelan nodded.
“—That only happens in one hundred and sixty-two Probabilities. Out of those, Ross returns unharmed in one hundred and twenty-one.”
What was that? Under seventy-five percent. A “C” average. His sister’s odds of survival should look better than Kyle’s GPA.
When Xelan spoke, Kyle opened his eyes. “Tameka has her talking. Chris, Pax, and Andrius are alive. No sign of Karter yet, but we know from Para that Remorse has control over her. Not Celindria.”
Andrew let go of Kyle’s shoulder and raked that hand over his face. “The good news is Celindria talking increases their odds. Don’t ask me how. It just does.”
Good news. Celindria talking is good news—
But it made some sense, didn’t it? When she’d possessed Kyle, something shifted in her anytime she engaged him in his attempts at banter or probing. Almost as if she sought an audience for… what?
Xelan walked up to Kyle and let his shadow fall on him. A familiar place. When the Icarus knelt, he looked up into Kyle’s eyes and the warmth there nearly choked him. They’d never really gotten along, but despite that, the younger man knew the ancient alien cared. As if to show it, he held out an earpiece. “Do you want to listen?”
Well, for one, Kyle sported his own earpiece. For another, “I don’t need your freaky alien wax in my ears, dude. It might infect me with stick-straight hair and the inability to tan.”
Andrew, stifling a snicker behind them, made Kyle smile at Xelan’s grinning face. The Prince of Cinder said, “We can’t have that, now can we?”
Tumu came over in the same coordinating colors: black and blue robes. He clasped Xelan’s wrist to help the Icarus stand up. “Peaches has a way of getting under Celindria’s skin. No doubt she’ll leave this encounter with more questions for you than answers.”
Xelan sighed and a flash of something passed through his eyes.
It wasn’t doubt or worry. More like…
“You’re as exhausted as we are.” Andrew beat Kyle to it.
Tumu barked out a sarcastic laugh. In his impossibly deep voice, he said, “Well, he’s been at it a lot longer than you. And I longer than him. We all deserve a break.”
“You can say that again, Tumi.” Lamassau strode up behind his lover. The green Tritan wore the inverse of Tumu’s robes. His voids scanned the endless parade of soldiers into the conduits. “One way or another, it’s coming soon.”
Xelan pressed his fingers to his earpiece before saying, “Korac wants us to join him for a summit with the other generals. I want you both there to screen them for us. If you’re up for it, of course.”
Kyle looked at Andrew, who blew the air from his cheeks and said, “My life is seeing into people and the worlds that press into this one. I don’t much care now what else I do.”
Everyone’s faces fell.
Except Kyle. He threw an arm over Andrew’s shoulders and pulled him in for an uncomfortable squeeze. “You and me. That’s all we need. Maybe we could fanfic this and look at our current predicament as more of an opportunity. What do you say, Conscience? Can you see me that way?”
Andrew, famously bisexual, peered at Kyle between big, wide blinks.
Kyle shook him out of his shock. “Well, I’m not saying I can compete with your history, but I’m willing to try—”
“Get the fuck off me, asshole!” Andrew pushed him away and straightened his jumpsuit. “Besides, I prefer my partners pretty.”
“Are you saying I’m not pretty?”
“No. I’m saying you’re not pretty enough.”
The group headed for the nearest conduit. Lamassau chuckled into Tumu’s sleeve, and Xelan shook his head incredulously.
“Well, excuse me for not having a fashion sense.”
“Oh, and like I’m a chick that could definitely kick your ass. Yeah, we’ve noticed you have a type.”
Tumu sighed. “The Vast Collective is in such good hands.”