“I don’t just mean the planet. I mean…” I pause, struggling to explain what I’m thinking. What I’m feeling. “Back in the monastery, every day was just the same. Sometimes I thought I would die from boredom. But I haven’t been bored since the moment I stepped foot on the Caelestis.”
Her brows go up. “You really think terror beats boredom?”
“Definitely!” And then I realize what I’m saying—and how I must sound to a girl who has been through what Beckett has—and I sigh again. “Goodness, that was terrible. I know there are lots of people with much less than me. And I have a role in life, maybe a chance to help all those people. But that doesn’t mean I don’t struggle sometimes. I just want so much more than to stare at the same walls, the same desert, for the rest of my life.”
There’s a narrow beach, and I drop to the beautiful cerulean sand and tug off my boots. Then sit for a moment staring up at her. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. That I’m here with you right now. You’re different than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” She looks down at me curiously. “Aren’t you interested in why I was on that prison ship? What I did to get there?”
“Of course I am. I’m interested in absolutely everything. All my questions irritate Merrick endlessly.”
“So why haven’t you asked?”
“Because what you did in the past doesn’t matter to me.” I smile gently at her. “Besides, you’ll talk about it when you’re ready.”
“Maybe I will.” The maybe I won’t hangs in the air between us, but I don’t push. I don’t want to ruin the magic happening right now. She smiles at me. “Now, let’s get in the water.”
I jump to my feet, and this time I’m the one who holds out my hand to her. It’s not a kiss like in my daydream, but it’s not nothing, either. It’s a step. One that makes me happy, especially when she reaches out and links her fingers with mine. Together, we walk slowly toward the water.
The water is warmer than I expected, and it feels like silk against my skin—or what I imagine silk would feel like. It seduces me, makes me wade deeper.
I think that at any moment I’ll stop and we’ll turn back. But I keep walking, and so does she.
When the water is up to my waist, I turn to look at her. Then I grin, release her hand, and fall over backward into the water with a squeal. I go under and come up spluttering and laughing, wet hair plastered to my cheeks and chest.
She looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. And maybe I have. Then she laughs as well and dunks under. I follow her down, holding my breath as long as I can, then come up, gasping, into the air.
“I’ll remember this when I’m back in the monastery,” I say. “This might be the best day of my life.”
She shakes her head. “And I thought I was sad.”
I know she doesn’t mean them, so I ignore the words. “I want to float, but I suspect I’ll sink in this ridiculous robe. It feels like it weighs a tonne.”
“Then take it off. I certainly won’t mind.”
I peer at her in the dusky purple light, and suddenly the air between us is charged with something new. I remember the taste of her from that brief kiss. The sweetness.
I tell myself to live out my daydream. To move to her and kiss her so I can feel like that again. But my legs are frozen, and so is my courage.
Thankfully, Beckett isn’t having the same problem.
Taking a step closer, she reaches out and strokes the hair from my face. Electricity sizzles between us, even before she leans forward and licks the water from my lips.
My knees tremble, and every nerve in my body sparks to life. I take a shaky breath, and she pulls away, her eyes questioning. I start to beg her to come back, to do that again, but I’ve forgotten how to form words. All that comes out is a quiet moan that smacks of the desperation—the need—that’s racing through my blood.
Beckett’s eyes go dark, her lips curving in a grin that looks as wicked as I feel. And then she’s leaning in again, though this time she doesn’t just lick my lips. She presses her mouth to mine, and it feels like my heart is going to stop in the very best possible way.
I moan again, and her lips curve against mine. “I like that sound,” she whispers.
“I like you,” I answer because it’s true. And because I want her to stop talking and kiss me, really kiss me, like in every great love story I’ve ever heard or daydreamed.
This time, when she leans in to kiss me, I can’t help but notice that her lips are cool. Or mine are hot. I can’t tell. All the feelings are mixed up inside me. The coolness of the water and the softness of her skin and the fire in my blood. I want her like I’ve never wanted anything.
I press myself closer, opening my lips under hers just as a shot shatters the night air.
Chapter 21
Kali
My new boots are a little uncomfortable and not great to run in, but I do it anyway. I run as far as I can, as fast as I can, until my lungs are burning and there’s a sharp pain in my side.
Finally, I spot a doorway close by. I duck into it and bend over, catching my breath.
Don’t fucking puke.
I can taste the bile, bitter in the back of my throat.
Ian gouged that man’s eyes out, and then he killed the others. Three on one, and he just dove right in like it was nothing.
Maybe to him it was nothing.
It’s a terrifying thought. From the beginning, I sensed that he was dangerous. That he wouldn’t let anything stand in his way. But there’s a difference between being dangerous and being a cold-blooded killer. The last man was turned away from him, not even going for him anymore, but Ian killed him anyway. Sliced his throat even after the guy was already down from the knife in the back.
I can still smell the sickly-sweet stench of the blood—so much blood—clogging my nostrils.
I can’t live like this, can’t be like this.
For a little while, I got caught up in the excitement of everything and forgot who and what I was. I forgot my duty. But that fight was a wake-up call I won’t soon forget.
I swallow and wrap my arms around myself. I don’t belong here. With him. With any of them. I have nothing to give any of them and could never truly live in this world.
I have to get away. The only problem is I’ve only got one other place to go—and I’m no longer sure I want to go there. I’ve seen too much here in Rangar: poverty, desperation, violence. And my mother knows about it all? More, she might be responsible for it?
Calm down. Make a plan.
But what can I do, who can I trust, other than myself? I’m the first to admit I’m completely out of my element here in Rangar. Where would I even go, if not back to the palace or the ship?
I take another deep breath and try to quiet my rioting mind. And decide that I should probably start by getting out of this doorway.
Except, when I peer at the street, my heart sinks. I seem to have run from bad to worse. This area looks run-down, with many of the buildings boarded up and falling apart. Plus the streets are empty of people, and the setting sun is casting eerie shadows. Now that I know just how dangerous this system is, every shadow seems like a threat.