

All Rights Reserved

Copyright © 2016 by Lynn Vroman

SMASHWORDS EDITION

First Untold Press Publication / April 2016

All rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination and or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published by Untold Press LLC

114 NE Estia Lane

Port St Lucie, FL 34983

www.untoldpress.com

PRODUCED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

For Tori, Katie, Olivia, and Rhys.

Part I

Chapter 1: Rebirth

Chapter 2: Everything

Part II

Chapter 3: Cliffs

Chapter 4: Shalen

Chapter 5: Glitches

Chapter 6: Collection

Chapter 7: Confessions

Part III

Chapter 8: Secrets

Chapter 9: Plan B

Chapter 10: Interference

Chapter 11: Nightmares

Chapter 12: Answers

Chapter 13: All That Matters

Chapter 14: New Beginnings

Chapter 15: Home

Chapter 1 of Tainted Energy

About the Author

Other Works

Death would pass.

He had to believe it.

He had no choice.

Tarek stared at his hands. No more wrinkles, no more age spots. Two hundred twenty-three years erased, leaving his skin taut, flawless. Except for tiny scars scattered on his fingers. They let him keep those imperfections after he had insisted on his deathbed. Those thin, white lines an assurance he was still himself.

He clenched his hands into fists, digging jagged nails into his palms. The Exemplian Decree–two sentences drilled into the head of every man, woman, and occasional child–stabbed his brain, refusing to let up:

We are the privileged, made of the strongest energies known to exist. All Exemplians–Protectors and Guides alike–are humanity's saviors, bestowed the honor of ensuring the human race survives across dimensions.

Humanity's saviors...

Humanity's saviors...

Saviors...

The only explanation for rebirth the population was entitled to know, according to Synod elders, Exemplar's leading government branch. He didn't understand how Creation Lab scientists brought people back. No one really did. "Science" was the answer given to anyone who asked.

But living again... Rebirth screwed with the mind more than death ever could.

His bunk, floating and as comfortable as a cloud, bounced every time he shifted with the urge to view his younger face. Just two feet to the imaging screen. Two long, endless feet. He hadn't looked at his reflection yet, not in the three weeks since they brought him back. He appeared eighteen again, one scientist had said with a proud smile. Eighteen.

Damn.

Privileged... Saviors...

Synod authority wouldn't allow him to wallow in his dorm forever.

Exemplians weren't monsters, though; even those in charge understood how the mind fractured after rebirth. But they wouldn't give him much longer. One month. They granted thirty days to come to terms with death and acclimate to a new life.

He wouldn't take more time, even if his mind remained broken. Heterodox, the sector for Exemplar's sullied, was his only other option. Demotion to that place meant no end. Same life until living ate away the very essence, turning a person into nothing but a breathing shell. Working in some capacity for the Synod resulted in a chance to earn retirement from Exemplar, to have his energy redistributed to another world to start over, forget all of this. A brand new existence elsewhere.

Death will pass...

If only it would pass faster.

A chime tinkled through his room. "Protector Tarek Montigue, you have a visitor." His comp's voice, the pleasant, feminine tone he had programmed to sound similar to his mother, invaded his depression.

"Who?" His own voice stunned him as it had when he first opened his eyes again. Not weak or watery, but strong, young, just as he remembered in youth during his last cycle–in his first life.

"Protector Farren Anders is requesting permission for entry."

Farren. The boy who matriculated into the ERP, Energy Redistribution Program, at six, and then grew into the noblest, most genuine man Tarek had the pleasure of knowing. Most annoying, too. This would count as the twentieth time Farren had tried to come to him since his rebirth. Tenacious bastard.

Farren wouldn't go away, and Tarek couldn't hide forever.

He rubbed his face, the surprise of his smooth skin enough to cause his hands to shake. Eighteen... "Permission granted."

"Very well, Protector."

A second after his comp system complied, his door swooshed open to reveal the big, redheaded pain in the ass. Fuzz entered Tarek's brain, like white noise, as it always did when Protectors were near one another. Guides detected each other in the same way, like a built-in homing device for those who shared the same abilities.

Still in his first life, Farren was about seventy, or close to it. But his face resembled a teen just out of puberty with unblemished skin not yet requiring a razor. No one from Exemplar kept track of birthdays. Another "privilege." Age was inconsequential. Exemplians had resources to keep the body spry for much longer than humans living in other dimensions.

"Well, look at you, brother, not a death virgin now. Guess I can't call you 'old man' anymore." Farren sauntered across the threshold to slouch in the levitating chair opposite Tarek's bunk. "Was it bad? I mean, is it as shitty as everyone says?"

Tarek tried to muster enough enthusiasm to smile. Death will pass. "Yes...to both of your questions."

"Yeah, ah, sorry for that."

Silence floated in the space between them, with only the hum of constant blips and ticks that came with high technology. Both men so obviously tried to find something to say. Neither succeeding.

Finally, Farren grinned. "You look good. Ladies aren't going to see you as their grandfather now. Best get ready for some attention."

"That's the last worry I have at the moment." Tarek gripped the edge of his bed. Faking normal wasn't easy. Just one more week. Sleep. Stare at the wall and allow the black free rein over his mind. He had one more week.

"You say that now..." Farren wriggled his eyebrows. "Anyway, are you still planning to mentor?" Farren's grin disappeared and challenge lit his brown eyes. "Or are you going to practice all that stuff you preached to us and go back into the field?"

"I haven't really thought about it."

Tarek had spent the last hundred or so years mentoring Protectors in the ERP on how to cross dimension lines safely, read coordinates, handle their Guides...traverse all the confusion that came with "privilege."

But to be Paired with a Guide again and redistribute human energy–souls, as others from different worlds described it–across dimensions?

Teaching was one thing. Practicing it turned into an entirely different animal.

He pushed from the bed and stretched, his body aching from hours of immobility. First stop, food. Next, who really knew? Should he go back into the field?

Hell, could he?

"I happened to have intel that might persuade you to get back into the game," Farren said, interrupting another awkward silence. "Be the great Tarek Montigue we all read about in our histories."

Tarek turned from his food hydrator to see Farren's somber expression. Or was it sympathy? Worry? Finding the student pitying the teacher sat like stones in the gut. "I was never great at anything," he said, his voice almost a whisper.

"Disagree." Farren leaned forward. "Do you want to hear it?"

"Hear what?"

"Have you listened to anything I've said?" Farren stood, solemnity replaced with fervor, his pale, freckled face bright with it. "Something...huge has happened."

Tarek's body jolted as if someone had pumped his nervous system full of adrenaline. Excitement. A welcomed shock. Most Exemplians far into first cycles and beyond rarely cracked a smile, or found anything disappointing. Life became predictable for most, stagnant.

Privilege. Even thinking the word created a sour taste on his tongue.

But one occurrence remained a mystery that gave the heart a punch and reminded the brain that life had its merits. "A new energy," Tarek said.

New energy, a first cycle of life, was an event that hardly ever transpired in this frustratingly perfect world. According to scientists, evolution made it harder to bring life into Exemplar since people tended to live over and over again. To birth a child carrying new energy inside and no knowledge of prior lives...a miracle at its most basic, extraordinary level.

Farren was a first-cycled new energy. Second- and third-cycled Guides flocked to him, begging to be Paired with the Protector. Farren chose his Guide himself–the day Tarek deemed him ready to cross lines. Tarek barely remembered the beginning of his own first cycle, but the anticipation more than likely felt by multi-cycled Exemplians then probably mirrored the exhilaration he experienced now.

"Yes, exactly, born only three months ago. And..." Farren stepped forward. "She's a Guide."

If Farren acted this enthusiastic, she was an infant Guide already inducted into the ERP. An irregularity, for certain. Parents didn't typically offer their children for service until the age of six when the rare birth happened. Exemplians usually volunteered for the program at the start of their second cycle, a first life in Heterodox enough of a nightmare to want something more.

But the new Guide would need to be Paired with a Protector she could learn from, and then travel across world lines with once she was ready to collect energy.

Yes, she'd need someone.

Someone like him.

His heart raced, the breakfast he hydrated seconds ago forgotten. "I... I don't think–"

"Mateusz put your name in the hat, man." Mateusz Fuchs happened to be the ERP's overseer–and Tarek's mentor when his mother offered him into the program as a boy. "Rumors say elders have agreed with him."

Sweat dribbled down Tarek's temples and soaked his thin shirt. "I... ah..."

"Tarek?" Farren set a hand on Tarek's shoulder and met his gaze. Even though the now technically older Protector was tall and broad-shouldered, Tarek towered over him by at least four inches and overshadowed him in width, especially with this younger body. "You understand what I'm telling you?"

"Yes. Yes, I understand." Nothing in this world was as addicting as being near the chaos and light and vitality of new life. A drug, really. No word in the Exemplian language even compared to that sort of euphoric glow one felt when near it. People wrote stories about it, even created songs and holographic art.

"So? You'll do it, right? Show all of us you're worthy of the pedestal?"

"I didn't ask for the position." Tarek moved away and snatched a piece of toast from the hydrator, only to throw it down on the table beside the machine. "Never wanted it." His heart expanded, almost hurting. Thump, thump, thump.

"Whether you asked for it or not, the position's yours. Now the elders are rewarding you. Don't tell me–hey, you're not really thinking about saying no, are you?"

Tarek analyzed the crumbs on the table, the bits creating a haphazard, abstract pattern. His stomach twisted, shrank. Death will pass.

Then it did, like fog dispersing with the mid-morning sun. This infant, this new energy, shocked his system enough to get it to work again. He kept his gaze on that crumb pattern, his insides on fire, electric zinging through his veins. "I would never say no to such an honor," he said, his voice quiet on the outside. Inside, a scream reverberated back and forth, his brain dull from the noise.

A loud hoot filled the dorm, causing a smile to sneak to Tarek's lips. Yes, Farren still knew how to live. The main reason they became close years ago. "Well, holy shit, brother!" Farren said. "You know what this means?"

Tarek faced his closest friend, an eyebrow raised, his skin tingling. "Enlighten me."

Another hoot, louder this time.

Farren brought Tarek in for a quick hug, clapping his back so hard the action no doubt would leave marks, and said, "It's time for you to come back to life."

Guides in their energy form captivated him.

They glittered like stars, even in a bright room, their energy zipping like comets every time they moved. So many colors–red, green, blue, gold–turned the most depressing place into a light show worth taking the time to watch.

Science. The entire phenomenon added up to science.

Tarek stood at the glass wall in front of the training center, forgetting the reasons why the beauty existed. Guides held his rapt attention, as they always had.

On the right side of the enormous room, Guides lay on levitating cots while an instructor strolled between the rows, her lips moving with direction Tarek couldn't hear. But he didn't need to hear to know what she said. The Synod held secrets from Guides not matriculated into the program–like how to separate energy from the body. Once her lips stopped moving, each of her students seemingly fell into a trance as their energy surged from their mouths.

Seconds later, the room transformed into a multi-colored sun. Those lights would one day have the power to absorb energies from other worlds and redistribute it. Exemplian privilege at its best.

Four advanced students sat along the far wall, strapped to chairs. Energy floated above them while they struggled, their mouths agape in screams. Guide energy in its truest form was almost toxic to other Guides. The static crinkling in their heads during a normal encounter–that built-in homing device–magnified by thousands.

Tarek empathized with them, their training intense. Some Guides described the feeling of energy separating from the body as flesh ripping from bone.

Thankfully, he had it easier. Unlike Guides, Protectors could perform their ability, opening dimension lines and traveling through them, as soon as they were old enough to lift their hands in the air. Yet, ending up in a safe place wasn't a guarantee for the untrained, some worlds so low on the evolutionary scale that humans couldn't survive the elements. That thought shifted Tarek's attention to the other side of the room.

Mateusz sat in the middle of a small circle of Protectors, teaching them how to read coordinates and convey that information to their fingers. The atmosphere crackled and split above students' fingertips, most with their eyes squeezed shut in concentration.

Tarek shook his head, avoiding the reflection of his younger face on the wall. He braved a single glance, right before he left his dorm this morning: blond hair without any silver, gray eyes no longer dull, smooth skin without a hint of wrinkles, strong jaw. His revitalized face another gift from science, exactly like the bursting sun in the training center.

Science...

Sometimes knowing all the secrets wasn't worth the responsibility that came with it.

Mateusz glanced up, catching Tarek's stare. The older Protector waved, and then spoke a few words to his students. All hands came down, the coordinates blinked off, and the atmosphere closed, leaving the Guides' energies ghosting above. After one last instruction, Mateusz exited the training center, the open door allowing the screams from the restrained Guides to follow him out.

Tarek's mentor was almost a foot shorter than his six and a half feet, with a slight frame. Yet, Mateusz's small stature was a lie. He was one of the best Protectors in the ERP, hence his advancement to overseer.

"You look fit, old friend." Mateusz smiled, rocking on his heels.

Tarek grinned, his mood lighter since Farren gave him a purpose, one that would begin today. "Fit enough, I guess. Ah...thank you, by the way."

"You deserve the chance." Mateusz paused, clearing his throat. "Let's get on with it, then. Big day for you." He headed for the Creation Lab, Tarek right behind him. "Kendal sends her love. She wants to see you after your Pairing. No excuses."

Kendal was Mateusz's woman. Beautiful, kind, and had treated Tarek like a son when he first came into the program. She still did after all these years and through two lives of her own.

"I'll make it a priority," Tarek said. His heart rate accelerated the closer they came to the hydro-lift. She'd be there, in the lab. His purpose.

Lena.

No last name existed in her file–none that he could find, anyway.

The lift descended deeper into the authority building, where most branches of the Synod had headquarters. The middle floors housed lower-level Synod members–Tarek's home since his mother offered him into the program. Most left housing after second or third cycles to live somewhere else in Cynosure, the capital, needing an escape from everyday Synod life. For Tarek, Synod life was all that existed.

Until now.

As they glided downward, Tarek peered at his oldest friend. "Who are her parents?"

"Pardon?" Mateusz slipped off his glasses and cleaned the lenses with the edge of his shirt. He had refused to correct his vision, always saying the one imperfection made him feel human.

"Her parents. No one is listed in the file you sent."

"Oh, yes, well...odd story, that one." Mateusz put his glasses back on.

Silence. He ended the conversation as if Tarek hadn't asked a question. A tactic Mateusz often used when evading a topic.

Not this time.

"I won't stop asking," Tarek said, his voice low. No need to be combative, as that would seal Mateusz's lips tighter than a locked door. Something he'd learned over the years.

Mateusz viewed the happenings on each passing floor as if he'd never witnessed the activity, still silent.

"Mateusz? Please. I've a right to know."

The older man sighed, his thin shoulders slumping.

Yes! Seeing that familiar body language never grew old. Tarek won the silent battle, a feat not too often accomplished.

"She's from Heterodox," Mateusz said. "Her parents are–were–citizens there."

Mateusz could have jabbed him in the chin and the surprise wouldn't have been as strong. Heterodox citizens giving up their child, a miracle, to the government they despised? Unheard of. At least he now understood Lena's missing last name. Having no surname wasn't uncommon among the Heterodox population.

Tarek gripped the railing to keep his watery knees from collapsing. "Are you certain?"

"Never more certain of anything in my life." Mateusz offered him a weak smile. "We were shocked, to say the least."

"They... She... Why?" A coherent sentence failed to escape his mouth.

"They wanted freedom. What better way to gain it than sacrificing a new life to service?" Mateusz's gaze focused on the lift's transparent wall. "Both were only in their first cycles. Just...a peculiar decision for Exemplians so young."

"They bargained with their child?" Stupid question, since the answer was obvious. The only chance a Heterodox citizen had at leaving Exemplar was offering their services at the beginning of a new cycle, or bartering with the Synod. Both decisions ultimately lead to a clean break from this world.

Mateusz nodded. "They have already been assigned a home in Abrogation, and their aging process hastened."

Of course they would go to Abrogation, the sector where retired Synod members went when they chose to leave Exemplar for good. No more scientific intervention, no more attempts to keep the body young. Old age, death, and then energy transport by a Guide to a world of their choosing.

"They didn't ask for time in Cynosure? Time to spend with their child before training starts?"

"No." Mateusz hesitated. "They were given the option but declined."

Tarek had nothing left to ask, too stunned.

Finally–finally–the lift stopped. The Creation Lab, which took the entire floor, consisted of white: white walls, white floors, white hallways leading to white doors, white computer systems, Exemplians in white robes working at white desks. Only three weeks had passed since his last trip here. Not long enough. All that white invaded his sleep every night until he went blind with the memory of it.

Breathing became impossible, his lungs protesting every time he attempted to pull in air. The lab's colorlessness wasn't what turned his lungs to stones, though. He had never seen an Exemplian under the age of six. And now he'd be Paired with an infant.

"Tarek?"

His mouth went dry. "I've never–what if she doesn't take to me?"

"She's a babe, only a few months old."

Tarek stepped back into the lift. "Who will care for her? I don't know how to–"

"She has a governess." Mateusz tipped his head toward the farthest door to the right, guarded by at least ten Protectors all wearing their protective contego suits. "You can do this. Out of everyone in this forsaken building, you can handle it."

"I don't want to fail her." There. He admitted it, the niggling fear snaking through the excitement, the honor.

"And because of that, you won't." Mateusz stepped across the threshold. "Now...I'm going in there to see this child." He faced Tarek. "I hope you'll be beside me when I do."

With Mateusz, everything turned into a challenge.

Damn it.

Tarek straightened his shoulders, pretended to have confidence riding his spine, and followed.

The bleeps and buzz of scanners swished around them as the machines checked their security clearances. Next came scrutiny from a high-ranking Protector, Winston Candell, who was captain of the Synod authority, one rank below the authority commander.

"State your name." Winston drilled Tarek with his dark gaze, his tone calm.

He knew who Tarek was, but protocol was protocol. And not a soul living in this world with an ounce of sense refused a direct command from Winston Candell. "Tarek Montigue, intended Protector to Guide Lena...ah..." No last name!

Winston stared at him for a few uncomfortable moments. Finally, the left side of his mouth curled up. "Right on, big man."

Winston spoke low so no one else heard, but the captain's quiet support eased Tarek's jumping nerves. "Thank you, Captain."

"Let the intended pass," Winston said. To a chorus of "Yes, Captain," he blocked Mateusz's path. "Not you."

Mateusz lifted his chin. "But I–"

"Not. You." Winston shook his head, the barest hint of tattoos showing on his dark skin at the neck of his suit. He never backed down. If Mateusz tried to push the issue, he'd be against a wall, humiliated and at Winston's mercy.

Tarek intervened before that happened. "It's fine, Mateusz, just procedure."

Mateusz's cheeks burned red, but he wouldn't lose it; he never did. "Of course. So... Kendal and I will see you in thirty days' time, then?"

Tarek nodded. "Tell her no parties."

A smile leaked through Mateusz's controlled fury. "I'll be sure to deliver the message, my friend. And... good luck." He returned to the lift, back ramrod straight.

Once the lift ascended, Winston moved forward. "Ready or not..."

Deep breath. "Right." Tarek followed him to the door still surrounded by authority, their suits glowing with subtle green light. The stronger Protector pressed against the access panel, and the door opened.

Tarek almost fell to his knees.

Only three people occupied another white room with two levitating beds. The Creation Lab overseer, Avery Larkin, in her snowy robes and an old woman wearing a tattered, threadbare dress. In the old woman's withered arms was an infant, swaddled in a blue cloth and sleeping.

Despite the distance, Tarek could see the child's face clearly. Love, instant and powerful, swelled his heart. As if she cast a spell, this tiny being, so innocent and perfect, healed parts of him that he hadn't realized were broken. Desire to protect her seared his skin, the feeling instinctual, feral.

He wiped the corners of his mouth, and saying nothing, he moved toward her. Lena.

A distant swish, as if the door were miles away, echoed with Winston's departure. The old woman smiled at him and said words he barely heard, only catching, "My natural beauty," as Tarek stumbled closer. He traced a shaky finger down Lena's cheek, her rosebud skin like silk.

"She's..." What is she?

Simple answer: she was everything.

Avery moved in between him and the old woman, a plastic smile on her empty face. She always looked devastated, tired. Tarek wouldn't wish her burden on anyone. The responsibility of overseeing Pairings, rebirth, and energy retirement would be a weight not many could stand tall under.

"Protector Tarek Montigue," Avery said, voice flat. "Do you accept the task of protecting Guide Lena, whose surname has yet to be given, until death finds one or both?"

He held her gaze, his resolve absolute. "I do." His voice rang clear, strong.

"And do you vow to transport her across dimension lines and protect her body while she performs her Guiding duties?"

Fear curled into his gut, prickling his skin, the danger that came with the job never more acute in his mind. "I do."

"Very well, then." She clicked her comp stick, and a holographic deed floated in front of him. "Seal your oath."

Tarek touched the hologram, and the deed became tangible long enough to burn his fingerprint into the document.

When it disappeared, Avery pointed to one of the beds. "Make yourself comfortable." She then gestured to the old woman and the other bed. "Please, mistress."

The woman placed Lena, who still slept, on the table and kissed the infant's forehead. "Treat her well, Protector."

"I will." Tarek never took his gaze off his young ward as the governess left the room. New life, life this young... No, not a drug.

Salvation.

"Your bodies will remain in slumber as your energies meld," Avery said. She came up to his bed and pressed circles on his temples, his forehead. The flat surfaces sent mild electric currents through his skin. The feeling was comforting, pleasant. "The process will take approximately thirty days, perhaps longer, depending on how well-matched your energies are."

He already knew the spew; this wasn't the first time he'd been Paired. His first and only Guide, Roderick, had been well into his sixth life with a plan for retirement. They had spent almost a hundred years together before Roderick went to Abrogation. When the Guide had died, their bond severed. The ache it caused still reminded his heart now and then.

The only new happening this time around was the strong emotion raging in his body, unlike the dutiful obligation he felt toward Roderick. This was no duty. This–this–was privilege.

Avery moved from him to Lena, pressing smaller circles to her head. "Once you both wake, you are hers, and she is yours. Do you understand?"

With every fiber of his being. "I do."

"Good." Avery moved toward the door. Before she slipped through the exit, she said, "Sleep well, Protector."

Soothing currents pulsed from the circles on his head, sending magic throughout his entire body. His eyes grew heavy, but he forced them to stay open, watching Lena sleep. After a few moments, no matter how hard he fought against it, oblivion began to win the combat with awe.

Then she opened her eyes, renewing his desire to stay awake. Her dark gaze studied him as he admired her.

"Hello, little one."

She burbled and fussed until the circles attached to her skin lulled her back to sleep.

Before he followed her lead, one last thought resonated in his mind: Everything.

The room lasted forever, his long strides not eating the gap between Lena and him fast enough. People waved from desks and called his name while never missing a beat, their fingers busy tapping keys. Those working for the Dimension Development branch knew him well after the last nine years. No surprise. He hauled Lena from this floor at least twice a month–once she turned sixteen–usually after someone caught her in an archives room.

Usually.

What had she done this time? Another break-in? Harassing a busy drone?

She had been an inquisitive child, always ready with a question for him or Nan, her governess. Not only was Lena inquisitive, but audacious, too. Hell, he spent most of her childhood years making sure she walked away from an adventure with her life intact. But then she grew up. He couldn't pinpoint exactly when she transformed from a girl to a woman in his eyes, maybe in her twentieth year, but one day he saw her. The daring girl who became the beautiful woman. The woman who still had an insatiable need for knowledge.

He reached the overseer's door and smiled as he returned greetings to some of the more familiar faces. Yes, Lena definitely made his job interesting. He leaned in for an eye scan and then waited for what no doubt would be another lecture on keeping better track of his Guide.

"She keeps you running, doesn't she?"

Tarek turned to Avery, who slipped from one of the many archives rooms as silently as air pushing through a vent. His smile widened. Pride. Undiluted pride held his back straight and made him light at the same time. "Wouldn't have it any other way," he said.

The Creation Lab overseer reciprocated his smile, though her eyes remained dull. "Your Pairing is satisfactory, then?"

Same question she asked almost every time he saw her over the past twenty-five years. Empty conversation.

"More than satisfactory." Exact answer he always gave her, verbatim. Three words, nothing more, nothing less.

"I am happy to hear it, Protector." Her gaze drifted to the room she'd just exited. "She's a curious one."

Another empty quip they volleyed back and forth.

"That she is." Tarek faced the door again, wishing this division's overseer would let him in already. Avery's depression was almost contagious, rolling off her in vaporous waves.

Unfortunately, he bumped into her often up here. When a retiring citizen put in a request for their next world, it was Avery's job to ensure that world suited energy of Exemplian caliber. Couldn't send strong energy to an undeserving, lower-evolved world, now could they?

"I would be happy to speak with her," Avery said, keen anticipation tinging her voice. "Perhaps you both cou–"

The door slid open, and Tarek sighed, relieved. Who said miracles didn't exist anymore? He gave her a slight nod, and said, "It's been a pleasure, Avery."

Before she could reply–or finish her interrupted thought–Tarek dipped into the room, the door closing on her solemn face. The last thing he wanted to do was expose Lena to the misery that was Avery Larkin. No, the woman wouldn't have a chance to extinguish Lena's passion.

Deep breath. Tarek cleared his throat and attempted to wipe the smile from his lips before stepping forward. He couldn't help it. Lena made him smile. All the time. Even when she tested every ounce of patience he possessed.

Cassondra Hale, Dimension Development overseer, sat behind a large, glass-topped desk. Her face–a serene mask so devoid of any pigment that even her eyes resembled the color of water running from a tap–showed no anger, no exasperation. Nothing. She just...was.

Lena sat opposite the woman, her stiff back to him. Where the overseer could blend into a wall, Lena resembled colors. Every color. All color, as if she were a living, breathing painting–an anthropomorphic canvas vivid enough to create storms inside his chest with one glance. She was life. Vibrant and full and consuming.

She was everything.

But right now, she was pissed.

"Please be seated by your Guide, Protector." Cassondra waved a pale hand toward the vacant chair next to Lena.

"Thank you," he said, taking a seat.

Lena refused to acknowledge his presence, her back now so rigid her spine looked in danger of snapping.

His smile returned full force before he could mask it again. Emotion of any kind–whatever she deemed to feel at any moment–brought him to the point of combustion, as if his psyche fed off it, needed it. In a world with bland people like Cassondra, Lena was a prism, transforming life into an ethereal rainbow.

He kept his gaze on Lena's profile, her cheeks flush and lips pursed. Cassondra would get around to the lecture eventually so they could leave. Then he'd take Lena to Shalen, their favorite place in the world. She'd vent, call Cassondra every name but her given one, and then jump off the hundred-foot cliff. And he'd listen, contribute a few names of his own to the conversation for moral support, and be waiting at the pool below to make sure she survived her jump unscathed. A routine that touted perfection–perfection as he imagined it, at least.

"You do realize it is against regulations to browse archives without permission, yes?" Cassondra finally got to it.

Tarek faced her, settling in for the inevitable. One sentence down, only a few more to go.

"Aren't archives there for learning?" Lena held out her hands. "Don't they exist for the very reason to read them?"

"Of course," Cassondra said. "But they are not for you to read. Not now. Your instruction already covers world histories. All you are required to know at this point is in your training."

"What they teach us is superficial garbage at best." Lena jutted forward, almost climbing over the desk in her frustration. "They have nothing else to tell me that I don't already know."

"Because you have managed to steal classified knowledge that you are not at privy to know." Cassondra's voice didn't elevate with every syllable as Lena's did. No, she remained calm, as if speaking to an errant child.

Which pissed Lena off more. "So, you're lecturing me–again–because I want to be better?"

Cassondra's lips twitched. The barest hint of emotion, but it was there. She didn't give her usual comeback to the question Lena always threw at her: Thievery does not make you better.

This reaction was new.

Tarek didn't trust it at all.

He covered Lena's hand and squeezed as Cassondra scrutinized her. Her fingers shook and her skin felt hot, as if rage burned her from the inside out. Tarek usually kept quiet until the end, when he promised to speak with his Guide regarding her actions.

He never did, even though Lena swore the last time was the last time–every time they left this office. Her fascination with other worlds–wanting to know every single thing about every single one–consumed her.

Wonder what she had learned today before they caught her? He'd get it out of her at Shalen after she had a chance to bitch about the injustice of rules. Who needed them, Lena always said. Not her, apparently. Status quo didn't fit her well. And he was damned glad it didn't, for the most part.

Cassondra folded her hands on her desk. "You are right, Lena."

What?

Lena's fingers shook harder under his palm, her skin now clammy. Cassondra had never said those fours words in the same sentence. Hell, they concluded she never would a while ago. But she said them.

She said them.

"I... What?" Lena took her hand from his and rubbed it on the folds of her robe.

"You are right," Cassondra repeated. "Mateusz and I have discussed it, and we believe you are ready to go into the field."

"She's only had nineteen years of training." Keeping quiet was no longer an option, Tarek's fear demanding him to speak. "At least ten years less than other Guides in the field."

"Energy instructors claim she is a natural," Cassondra said, "and she has obviously well-educated herself. I don't see the issue."

"Don't see the–Are you serious?" No. Not going to happen. Mateusz agreed with this?

Tarek opened his mouth again, ready to battle, but Lena nudged his foot. "I... I'm honored," she said, her voice airy. "But... I don't understand."

"Isn't this what all that knowledge pilfering was about? Performing your duty to the human race?" Cassondra tilted her head. "Aren't you ready?"

"Well, y-yes, bu–"

"You have the tools, and now it's time to utilize them." Cassondra turned toward a comp system to her right, pulling up holograms of different worlds, dismissing them. "Seek out my Guide and have your language translator implanted. Orders will be given in one week's time."

Tarek jumped up, his levitating chair shooting to the other side of the room with the force. "This is shit, and you know it!"

Cassondra focused on him without flinching. "Watch yourself, Protector," she said, her voice even, unbothered.

No. No way. He stuck his finger inches from her face. "You can't–"

"Thank you, Cassondra." Lena tugged on his arm until he pulled back an inch. "Please, forgive him. He's...surprised, is all."

Surprised? He almost laughed. Nothing Exemplians did surprised him, especially the asshats who sat on their gilded thrones, spouting orders to their underlings.

Lena tugged harder.

He closed his eyes, counted to ten, and moved away from the desk. If he did anything to the woman, authority would arrest him, mark him as a traitor–a Tainted–and he'd be sent to a cell, leaving Lena alone.

Tarek lifted his gaze to Cassondra's, hating how unruffled she was. She had him by the ballsack, and she knew it. "Where are you sending us?"

She stared for a moment and then resumed her study of the holographic worlds beside her. "You will know in a week."

The door opened, a clear sign she was finished.

Tarek grabbed Lena's hand and bolted, his fury so potent he could almost see it, his vision a red haze.

Neither spoke as they made it to the lift.

Neither spoke as the lift carried them to the middle floors.

Neither spoke as they stalked to his dorm.

But Tarek never let go of her. He couldn't.

Once the door shut behind them, he released Lena's hand, only to cup her cheeks and rest his forehead against hers.

He closed his eyes. Breathe. In and out...in and out...in and out...

"Tarek, listen. Listen to me, okay?" Lena covered his hands and pressed against his fingers. "Are you listening?"

A nod.

"We'll be all right. Everything will be fine."

He leaned back far enough to see her face. So pale now, all her color gone, a clear canvas, except for her eyes: brown, like sherry, and bright against her ashen complexion. "She's punishing us," he said.

Lena's mouth struggled with a smile, failing. "I know, but we can do it. We will do it."

"Why, Lena? Why did you have to go up there again? You promised..."

She winced, her sherry eyes now hooded with guilt. "Sorry, so sorry."

So many other admonishments wanted to fall from his mouth, but he wouldn't berate her, or make her feel guilty. Her passion, her curiosity, vitalized him, made living here more than tolerable. She made it home.

He remembered how excited–confident–he had been when he and Roderick went to their first world together. Not this time. Not with Lena. She was...different. Twenty-five years. He'd had twenty-five years with her and it only felt like minutes, seconds.

"I can't lose you." He pulled his hands from her face and tucked long strands of dark hair behind her ears.

"You won't. Ever." Her smile finally won, giving some color back to her cheeks. "We're stuck until death and death and death do us part."

"Only three?" He already felt better. She did that. She had always done that for him.

"I'm assuming I'll be quite tired of you by then." She winked. "I'll have to find myself some new energy to keep me on my toes."

He laughed, going to his comp system. "You do that. With any luck, karma will give you a headache as large as the one I have."

Her snort lifted his spirits more. "Hey, I happen to be pleasant company."

"That's another word for it, I guess." He grinned, his fingers busy punching in Mateusz's number.

"What are you doing?"

"Mateusz will end this. I'll beg, grovel, promise to chain you up after training hours...whatever it takes."

"No!" Her hand stopped his before he could tap in the last number. "I want to go, Tarek. I want to."

He faced her, his fear sneaking back in. "Why?"

"I'm ready." She lifted her chin. "And we'll be just fine. You know why?"

He shook his head, his finger itching to insert that last digit.

"I have you."

"Lena..."

"I have you, and you have me," she said. "I trust you, so trust me, too."

Trust her? Of course he trusted her. Trusted her above any being in this world and the next.

Tarek brought her hand to his heart. "You're going to drive me insane, Lena Mi."

"That's the plan." Her laugh made his heart beat faster, despite the memory using her last name provoked.

Lena was fifteen when Nan had revealed the truth before she died–and moved on to another world. Lena's past was something Tarek had never wanted her to know, and after she had screamed at him for keeping it secret, she clung to him, sobbing. Tarek sat with her for weeks while she cried herself to sleep. She lost her governess and discovered she was a bargaining chip all at once.

Lena had decided her last name after her refusal to take his, saying she wouldn't accept his pity. Her logic: A last name shows I belong to someone, anyone, even just a little piece. I only belong to me, not you. Just...Mi.

Mi went on her official transcript the next day, replacing an arbitrary name Mateusz had given her.

She patted his chest, bringing his mind out of the past. "Now, I'm going to find the little weasel who follows Cassondra around and finally get my language implant. Then we're going to Shalen, and you're going to speak to me in every single language that pops into your head." She stopped and pulled in a gulp of air. "And then I'm going to jump off the cliff–and jump again and again–and you're going to have a fit every time."

Yes, she was all the colors. "Is that how it will be, then?"

"Absolutely." She went to the door and hesitated. "How's Farren?"

"He's coping as well as can be expected."

Two weeks ago, a group of thieves ambushed Farren and his Guide in Andor, a world where no Exemplian wanted to go. Farren had managed to pull his Guide home before he died of gashes in his chest. The Guide lived. A case of wrong place, wrong time, but that consolation didn't help to get over rebirth.

Lena pressed the access panel, her palm the only one besides his able to get into his room, and the door opened. "Well, tell him he's coming with us."

"I don't think he wi–"

"Bring him, even if you have to bound and gag him." Before she left, she added, "Nothing brings a person back to life better than a cliff dive."

As soon as the door closed, he sank to his bunk, having a hard time knowing what to feel. She had always managed to do that, too. He should be angry, scared. And he was. But he was so many other things mixed with it.

A cliff jump to feel alive? No, he had something more potent.

Lena became his dark-haired, sherry-eyed cliff the moment he saw her.

They sat in a semicircle at Lena's favorite spot, under the largest apple tree in an orchard minutes away from the cliff. No one said anything, all focused on the flat stone Lena had engraved a few years ago:

Nan: she was hope in a world without it.

The words were somewhat skewed, as Lena was better at digging up information on worlds than craftsmanship, but she had refused Tarek's help.

She leaned forward to pull weeds from the edges of Nan's memorial as tears glided down her cheeks. Normal occurrence when they sat here. He wanted to brush them away, heal whatever the older woman's death bruised.

Once, when Lena's tears had refused to stop, he told her as much. She curled closer to him, still sobbing: I don't want to heal it; I want the hurt to always be there. Wherever she went, I hope somehow, deep down, she knows someone will always miss her. It's all I have to give, a stone and my promise.

The breeze picked up, bringing with it the smell of fruit and lilacs, and lifted hair to wisp around her face. She was perfect, whether laughing, crying, or snubbing rules and committing theft.

He tilted his gaze toward the treetops and examined the budding apple blossoms, trying to curb his need to, well, need her. Most of Shalen's "nature" was a hybrid version of what Exemplar used to be millennia ago. But all the genetically modified beauty was still beauty. He had no trouble ignoring its origins.

Farren shifted with a grunt, interrupting Lena's quiet mourning and Tarek's futile attempt not to ogle her while she did it. As a child, she fascinated him. As a woman...damn, so many other things.

Lena was smart to invite him, the peace here more healing than time alone in a barren dorm room.

Tarek tapped Farren's shoulder with his own. "How're you holding up?"

Farren shrugged. His younger, freckled face was so pale it could have glowed in the dark. "You know, like shit."

Lena placed her hand on Farren's forearm, sympathy filling her eyes with more tears. She didn't say anything since no words existed in any language that would ease rebirth's pain, but her touch seemed to bring some color back to Farren's cheeks.

Tarek cleared his throat. "Are you going back into the field?"

As Farren did for him after his rebirth, Tarek would give in return. Talk. Just talk and not pretend it didn't happen, but not bring a spotlight on the subject, either.

Farren shrugged again, his attention now on Lena's hand patting his arm. "Don't know. Eadmund opted to keep our Pairing intact. So..."

Pairings–between a Guide and Protector–always severed after death. Well, unless the living person chose to keep the tie. Most did, as the connection ran deep. In death, that bond, when broken, created a sort of phantom pain that festered for a lifetime.

"You could always mentor for the ERP; they need good instructors. I'm sure Eadmund wouldn't mind a stint with the program."

Farren gave a weak smile. "Yeah..."

"Enough, both of you." Lena plucked grass from her form-fitting pants. Every time they left Cynosure, she took advantage of it, replacing her Guide robes with comfortable clothes. "We didn't come here to be sad. We're here to forget everything but what's directly in front of us."

"You know what's in front of me right now? You and Tarek." Farren looked at Nan's stone, not budging. "What if they send you to Andor? It's bad there, worse than Arcus ever was."

Lena said nothing as she hit Tarek with all her worry through those sherry-colored eyes.

Andor and Arcus, the bastard worlds Exemplar deemed only suitable for human waste, the universe's dumping grounds. They sent all bad energy to those two worlds, every drop. Human souls considered unworthy of another life in a safer, more evolved world. Hell, Arcus didn't even have a human population, the habitat unsustainable for them. That world had monstrous tree-squid, animals most human energy became in their next life. And now Farren believed Andor was worse?

Fear instantly curled into Tarek's stomach, the kind of fear that eats and eats until it leaves the chest cavity empty. Would Cassondra send them there? Would she punish Lena with possible death?

Tarek turned to Farren. "Why did you go to Andor in the first place? We don't even collect energy from there anymore."

Farren rubbed his face with a yell, scaring some of the birds from their perches in the trees. He then said, "Cassondra thinks she can save the world, speed up its evolution. Give good energy and take away some of the bad."

"That's–what the hell is she thinking?"

"Universal domination, I suppose," Farren said with an empty chuckle. "But who knows?"

"That's just..." Was there a strong enough word to describe the stupidity? Crazy, self-righteous bitch.

"I know," Farren said. "Trust me. The only good thing about my death is the elders seem to be reconsidering their assent to Cassondra's plan."

Tarek inched closer to Lena as if the nearness could protect her from any future trips to those two worlds. Maybe he should take her into Heterodox. They'd never assume he'd be crazy enough to hide there.

"What did I say?" Lena held up a hand when he opened his mouth. "I said we're going to forget everything–everything–for the next few hours. Especially our first assignment"–she pointed to Farren–"and your rebirth, and Andor and Arcus and all other worlds. Forget it, all right?" She stood. "Now, come on before it gets too dark."

Yes, just throw her over his shoulder and run. Escape into the bowels of Heterodox and stay camouflaged among the prostitutes and drug addicts, or run somewhere deep in the woods with the genetically altered boar and deer to hide behind.

But he wouldn't. She'd never let him, anyway. Tarek stood on legs still numb with residual worry. "All right, then. Let's go."

Farren remained on the ground, peering up at Lena and squinting against the sun. "I'm not jumping," he said.

"Oh, hell yes, you are." She reached for his hand and dragged, not doing a thing to move the much bigger man. "Get your moping arse up, and get it in the hovercraft. I'm driving."

Farren watched her, his lips twitching as she struggled to bring him to his feet. "You drive? Yeah, I just died. Don't want to do it again."

Tarek laughed when Lena scowled, which then garnered a smile from Farren. See? She had that effect on everyone, not just him. She bloomed as bright as the lilacs littering the orchard.

Lena dropped Farren's hand and nudged him with her booted foot. "Get. Up. You'll thank me after your first jump."

"If I survive it." Farren pushed to his feet, shaking his head but still smiling. "I don't have a giant to save me from drowning."

"Unlucky for you," Lena said, grinning.

Tarek clapped him on the back as they followed Lena to their ride. "Don't worry, I'll save you, too."

"Aren't you chivalrous?"

"All the time." Tarek opened the passenger door, trying to forget what Farren said. Forget his own cowardice and stanch the desire to lock his Guide away from the universe. Cassondra wouldn't send them to Andor. She wouldn't. "Ladies first."

Lena cackled from the driver seat and started the quiet engine while Farren punched Tarek in the shoulder on his way into the back. "Ass."

Tarek chuckled and gestured to the safety belts, ignoring the insult and the slight sting from Farren's fist. "Buckle your harness." He jumped in just as Lena took the hovercraft off the ground.

Ten minutes later, they landed on the bank near a warm pool below a hundred-foot waterfall. Lena clicked off the engine and faced Tarek with a wide smile. "Ready?"

"No," he said, his lips struggling to frown. Her excitement was as potent as her sorrow.

Her door lifted. "Well, you better get there quick. It only takes me eleven minutes to hike that cliff now. My personal best." She hopped out and signaled to Farren in the back. "Let's go."

Farren grumbled and cursed in Desis, a language many higher-evolved worlds spoke in one region or another, as he got out.

"Hey!" Lena kicked off her boots and threw them on the bank. Next went her pants and shirt, leaving her in her underthings. She switched to Desis as she continued. "I'll have you know I'm not an idiot and this is not a lame-ass thing to do."

Farren grinned as he shed his clothing down to a pair of underwear. He switched back to Exemplian, and said, "Ahh, you've gotten your language implant. Baby girl all grown up now."

As the two bickered back and forth in a few other languages, Tarek smiled, undressing as well. Leave it to his Guide to make a person feel alive only two weeks after death. Farren fell for Lena's color just as he had.

Tarek dipped into the pool as they climbed the slippery rocks adjacent to the waterfall. He never jumped because 1) he didn't handle heights well, and 2) he needed to be at the bottom just in case Lena needed him. The first time she had jumped, when she was about ten, she smacked the water's surface on her stomach, stunning her. Remembering that day sent a shudder down his spine. If he hadn't been at the bottom to pull her out–no, his mind couldn't even go there.

Not all memories he stored away and rehashed during long nights were pleasant. Her desire for near-death experiences only made his possessive need to keep her safe obnoxious at times. Like now, when she lost her grip as she climbed the slippery stone to plunge a hundred feet into a tiny pool.

"Be careful!" Panic made his voice loud, almost shrill.

Her laughter answered him as she scrambled up the last few feet, Farren right behind her.

"Not funny," Tarek mumbled, wading deeper until he couldn't touch bottom. He looked up in time to see Farren barreling toward him, his arms and legs flapping and a howl on his lips. Tarek rushed out of the way. "Straighten your le–"

Too late.

Farren's splash sent ripples almost all the way to the bank. A few seconds went by, and Farren remained underwater.

"Damn it." He'd have to save the redheaded bastard after all.

Tarek swam to Farren just as he surfaced, coughing up water. A few slaps on the back and Farren managed to breathe normally, though his pale chest flamed red with the telltale sign of hitting the water wrong.

"Need to straighten those legs," Tarek said, treading water beside him.

"Advice is always more useful before the act, brother." Farren howled again. "But damn, what a high."

"So I hear."

"You've never jumped?"

"Absolutely not."

Farren laughed. "Coward."

"Precisely." Tarek pointed up. "Now watch how it's done."

"Nah. I'd rather jump again." Farren swam for the bank and hesitated. "You know, the way you look at her... It's obvious."

"What's obvious?" Tarek's gaze lifted toward Lena as she readied to jump.

"She's not just your Guide, not anymore."

Tarek's breath caught. "That's–I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do," Farren said, his voice quiet. "Just be careful. The last Paired couple the elders found in a relationship ended up dead and no longer Exemplian. Rumors say both energies were sent to Arcus." He paused. "Remember what comes first." With that, he left the pool and headed toward the cliff.

Denial raced through Tarek's veins and filled his throat until he almost gagged on it. Farren was wrong–completely wrong. So... why did his heart slam against his rib cage and his limbs turn numb?

No, this wasn't what he needed to think about now. A relationship? That couldn't happen. It couldn't. He shook his head and gave Lena a thumbs up.

She nodded, getting into position. Her process never changed: back straight, arms up with hands reaching out, and face tilted toward the sky. After a few moments, she let herself fall as if she were prepared to dive into forever.

"Straighten your arms," he whispered. She'd do it before she met the water, as always. But knowing she could make the jump blindfolded didn't ease the worry from watching her fall.

Her splash didn't match the sloppy entry Farren had made. The water barely moved as if the pool welcomed her in, missing her. In seconds, she broke through the surface, her long hair a dark cape fanning her bare shoulders.

Beautiful.

Iris fish nibbled at his toes, their tickling assault going unnoticed. He stayed where he was, treading water, mesmerized by her. Even now, after coming here at least twice a week for years, she savored the pool's warmth, a peaceful smile caressing her lips as she floated on her back. This place was theirs, a place where she could be her and he could be him.

His fingers itched to glide through her hair, trace her jawline. He wanted to promise her things.

Wait.

No.

Farren got into his head, only explanation. She was his Guide, nothing more and certainly nothing less. He had always felt protective, honored to have her in his life. But at that moment, he–

No.

What the hell are you thinking?

He pictured her as an infant and that daring little girl, the younger version of the woman she was now–the woman he realized was no longer a girl years ago. She needed him to keep her safe, not...

Not anything more. More would only cause them pain.

"Where are you right now?" Lena paddled to him, concern on her face. "Don't, all right? Don't worry about where we're going."

His face burned as shame rode up his spine and flamed his cheeks. His mind wasn't on their imminent assignment–where it should've been. But he'd never tell her, never let her know how much he... What? What did he want?

Tarek swallowed, and then gave his brightest smile. "I'm not worried."

"Liar. Those dimples don't fool me at all." She backstroked to the bank, kicking water in his face. "Now, get outside of that brain and enjoy the water. I'm going again."

"We only have a few more hours until curfew." Even though he'd lived two lives, he–along with everyone else in the ERP–had a curfew. Safety reasons, elders claimed. More like control.

"Screw them," she said, sloshing from the water. "Farren is just about normal again. A few more jumps and he'll be where he needs to be. More important than bedtime, don't you think?"

"We get back after curfew again, and they'll definitely send us to Andor." He meant it as a joke, but even the thought brought out that overbearing desire to hide her from the universe.

"Wherever we go, I'm not afraid. You'll protect me." She wrung out her hair and flung it over her shoulder. Her body, lithe and strong–and barely covered.

His heart dipped. More than my Guide...

Farren's warning dug into his brain: remember what comes first. "I'm not invincible, Lena."

A flush colored her cheeks before she looked toward the sky. "Well, you are to me."

More than my Guide.

Tarek's brain had replayed those four words for the past week, awake or asleep.

Redheaded, observant jackass.

Farren had to voice it–bring truth into the open and air it out. Make Tarek think about Lena more than he already did. He noticed how she twirled her hair while studying live satellite feeds from other worlds, biting her lip in concentration.

How she picked over the peas in her stew as they talked about nothing important in the cafeteria.

How her smile made his heart lurch when she spoke to others in the hallways or during training, always willing to give her complete attention to anyone asking for it.

Shut up.

Shut up!

Shut up!

Now wasn't the time.

Lena sat next to him in Mateusz's sparse office, her chin held high as she pretended not to be nervous. So brave, even when the next few minutes could bring them closer to death. First assignments remained confidential until the moment before a scheduled leave. Not until the second assignment did Paired Exemplians get orders in advance. Another rule unexplained. Another rule everyone followed without question.

Everyone, except Lena.

"This is insane," she said to no one in particular. "Wouldn't it make sense to tell us earlier, give us a chance to prepare? Why do they always keep the first assignment secret?"

Tarek said nothing, his leg bouncing overtime.

"I assume it has something to do with testing loyalty, but I must follow the rules just like everyone else," Mateusz said, his face ashen and pinched. "And you will not be sent to any world not yet covered in your studies, I assure you."

"That doesn't answer the question, sir." Lena subtly placed a hand on Tarek's bouncing knee, calming his nervous tic. Where he was ready to leap from his chair, she kept her head–the usual lately.

"It's a question I can't answer with certainty." Mateusz laced his fingers together and rested them on his desk, his gaze drifting to a hologram of Kendal smiling and tucking hair behind her ear. "I wish I could. I wish I knew where you were going." He shook his head, and added, "I wish you had more training."

Tarek's temper almost snapped, but the last thing he needed to do was hurt Mateusz. Assaulting the ERP's overseer would only make their situation worse. "We're going because of you."

Weariness dulled Mateusz's eyes. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying"–Tarek leaned forward, his finger inches from his supposed friend's face–"you agreed to this. You."

"Agreed to it, yes." Mateusz stood from behind his desk to stare out the glass wall giving a clear view of Cynosure bustle. "But..." He left his sentence to linger.

"Why?" Tarek's fingers clenched the chair's metal armrests so tight, his nails bent with the effort.

Mateusz bowed his head, quiet for a moment. Then, "I don't have much choice but to agree with the woman." He turned to Tarek. "Cassondra is my superior, too, my friend. When she demands, I must comply."

Lena cleared her throat, her fingers now squeezing his overactive leg. "Like agreeing to send Guides to collect bad energy in Andor...in exchange for giving good?"

Mateusz flinched. "She has the elders' approval." He pushed his glasses up with the tip of his index finger, his gaze returning to outside happenings. "I can't deny her anymore on that than I can on this."

Brilliant. Just perfect.

"She's a monster," Lena said, her voice low as if she feared her words had the power to escape the room and find Cassondra's ears.

Tarek said nothing to disagree with her. Cassondra was a monster, a human being who forgot empathy, compassion...a basic respect for life. He watched the hovercraft traffic zipping past the glass wall with Mateusz, studying what little normalcy Exemplar possessed. People had to work, had to shop for food, clothes, tools to replace tools no longer working. Normal, seemingly just like any other world he'd been to where people lived for the sake of living.

Yet, one huge difference existed between Exemplar and the rest of the universe: other worlds believed they had one chance to be all they could. It would've been nice to experience that kind of urgent normalcy. Always living because dying never ran too far behind. What a lie.

A polite ding filled the pregnant silence filtering into the room, and Mateusz strode to his comp system. "Your orders," he said, hitting a button.

Tarek's normal: orders, all the time, life after life.

Cassondra's hologram appeared, as translucent as the woman's skin. Her languid gaze touched everyone in the room, stopping on Lena. "You will be going to Empyrean. Energy you deem worthy will come here." No niceties, no false politeness, just straight-to-the-point commands.

Tarek sighed, his body loose with relief. Empyrean was Exemplar's sister world, almost as highly evolved. Lena relaxed beside him, too, her shoulder slumping against his. He looked down at her and winked, causing her to smile as she mouthed, See?

Okay, so all the hours coming up with contingency plans if things went bad, the dark nights allowing anxiety to show him a slew of what-ifs, summed up to zilch. Not a bad thing at all.

Until the damn woman opened her mouth again. "And the energy you declare unfit for Exemplian life will be discarded in Andor."

Tarek stiffened. "You're serious?"

He kept his voice even, using every ounce of willpower to remain stoic. She controlled who went where. A pissed off Dimension Development overseer equaled a trip to a shitty world.

"I'm always serious, Protector." She nodded to Mateusz, her hologram flickering. "See that they receive the coordinates I've sent you." She clicked off before Tarek could utter another word.

"It'll be fine," Lena said. "It's just distribution, not collection. Everything will be fine."

Tarek heaved as logic warred with fear. Scientific glitch number one: a Guide's body had to be present in the world they collected from. And Lena would be collecting from Empyrean, not Andor. So even though she would have to send "unfit" energy to Andor, only her energy would be dropping it off, her body safe with him in Empyrean. The shell needed protecting. A dead body couldn't host an energy, now could it?

But still... "Cassondra's sending innocent people to Andor," Tarek said. "People who don't deserve a horrid next life."

Lena shrugged, though her grim face belied the movement. "Simple solution, I'll send all energy here anyway, safe and sound, regardless of what Cassondra wants."

"If you deviate from orders, Cassondra will notify the authority, and you'll be marked Tainted," Mateusz said, his voice elevated with concern.

Panic rode up Tarek's spine, forcing him to stand, Lena following beside him. No, not that–never that. A Tainted sentence ended in two ways: years in a cell where sadistic bastards spent hours a day making sure the traitor relived every personal fear or execution with energy sent to a lower-evolved world. Punishment to the extreme, as only Exemplar knew how to do.

"We won't deviate," Tarek said.

"How can Cassondra prove anything?" Lena's body inched closer to his as if she needed his nearness. Good thing, because he needed her close, too.

"Warden Teenesee gives only two lives during collection, one strong, and one not." Mateusz drummed his fingers on his desk, worry straining his brow. "It's stated as law in the treaty."

All worlds except Exemplar had Dimension Wardens who held energy of the dead. They usually cooperated, though the amount of energy given to Guides depended on the treaties that each Warden had with Exemplar. Usually being the operative word.

"I've read the damn treaty. But"–she glanced up at Tarek–"there are no weak energies in Empyrean, not really."

"I know." Tarek scooped her into his arms, giving in to the urge to touch her, wishing it'd be enough.

"We'll be responsible for ruining a life." Lena burrowed closer to him, her trembling hands splayed across his chest.

"I know," he repeated, at a loss for anything else.

Truth of the matter was Empyrean energy was just as strong as Exemplar's. Even the frailest person's energy could further the evolution of a world. But one was always weaker, and this time, that one innocent person would suffer a life in Andor.

And if the Warden found out Lena sent one of her people there–no, she never would. "We can't let Teenesee know," Tarek said.

"Smart idea." Mateusz tapped his bottom lip, rocking back on his heels. "Wars have erupted for less."

Histories told of world wars and nothing but death was the outcome, hence the treaties. But knowing Empyrean's Warden well, she'd fight for every single person in her world. Every. Single. One.

"Yes," Tarek said, holding Lena closer. "Definitely can't tell her."

Lena rested her cheek against his chest, her heat hitting him in his thrumming heart. "How do we go there...and lie right to her face? I don't thi–"

"Exactly, don't think," Mateusz said, sympathy clouding his face. "Please, Lena, adhere to command or face consequences, your only choice."

"But–"

"I'll beg if I have to," Tarek said, hunching until he was eye level with her. He prepared to get on his knees and prove himself if necessary. "This once. We can't fix it now."

She studied his face, her lips pursed and eyes hard. For Lena, right and wrong was black and white. There was no in-between. Thankfully, she agreed. "This once."

"I'll go to the elders myself. Just don't expect–Damn it!" Mateusz slammed a fist on his desk, closed his eyes, and then opened them, resuming the calm façade he always maintained. "Open your portal here this time." He spat out the coordinates. "And turn on your suit before you leave."

Before Tarek could do it himself, Lena reached under his arm and turned on his contego suit. A muffled whir vibrated through his skin, assuring him no weapon of any sort, whether a bullet or an angry animal, would puncture his body.

Lena wouldn't have it so lucky. Scientific glitch number two: Guides never wore suits, the protective fabric making it hard for energy to release from the body.

"Leave it on, Tarek. Promise me." Her eyes demanded he listen.

The suit became annoying after too long, the zing to the skin causing it to feel raw–main reason why Protectors shut it off once they felt an area secure. A mistake Farren had made in Andor.

He gathered her hands in his. "Promise."

"The sooner you leave..." Mateusz pressed a hidden button on the edge of his desk, causing the glass walls to darken. "And I promise to do what I can to stop this...this lunacy."

"Thank you, friend." Tarek nodded to Mateusz as the older man left the office, and then focused on Lena, her sherry eyes drowning in worry. "My turn to tell you it will be okay."

She swallowed. "I know. It's just... I've never..." She pointed up.

"Yes, well, last part of your training covers it."

"Lot of good it does me now." Some color returned to her cheeks as she glanced up. "Does it hurt?"

He kneaded the small of her back, loosening the tension bunching there–and creating fire against his fingertips. "Think swimming through fog. If you can jump off a hundred-foot cliff, you can travel through a portal."

She snorted. "That easy, then?"

He smiled. "That easy."

She slid her hands from his chest to wrap around his waist, her cheek flush against his glowing suit, torturing him in the best possible way. "I trust you."

He had to bite his upper lip and look to the ceiling to prevent kissing the top of her head. Damn you, Farren! Damn you. He let go of her with one hand and lifted it in the air. "Ready?"

"As I can be."

He searched his mind for the coordinates, a slight hum coursing through his body and traveling to his elevated fingertips. Once the information clicked, the atmosphere split and crackled. Air gushed from the tear as their feet left the ground.

"Don't let go." As soon as the warning left his mouth, the portal sucked them in. Traveling through world lines mimicked the sensation of being in a vacuum, silent and compressed. The few-second trip constricted every part of the body, but almost in a pleasant way, as if swaddled in a velvet cloth.

And just like that, they landed in paradise. Paradise as Tarek always believed it to be.

He reached behind to unclench her hands, massaging her stiff fingers as he moved back a few paces. "Lena?"

"Are we there?" She kept her eyes slammed shut. Her face so white, the veins in her forehead resembled an ancient road map.

Tarek continued his gentle assault on her fingers. "Open your eyes."

"I..." She squeezed her eyelids tighter until the skin against her temples crinkled.

"Do you still trust me?"

"Of course I do."

He turned her to face the villages. "Then open them."

Slowly, Lena raised her eyelids and gasped. "I've read about this place, watched satellite feed, but..." Tears brightened her eyes. "It never seemed real."

"Exactly my reaction the first time," Tarek said. The first time, the second, the thirtieth...

Villages hovered in the sky, dotting the landscape into infinity. Buildings sat next to each other in every town in a sort of abstract symmetry, tall and squat, muted and spectacular. Bursts of yellow, red, or green painted one, while directly beside it was a salmon-colored structure. That pattern of no pattern repeated itself over and over.

Tarek gestured toward the music wafting down to them from the closest village. "Hard to believe, but it is. Real, I mean. Sweat and muscle built these towns, and animals aren't spliced with other species or created in labs." He clasped her hand because at that moment, not touching her made him feel empty, as if a part of him were missing. "No book or hologram or even live satellite feed can show it properly."

She laughed, even as tears trailed down her cheeks, catching him off guard.

"Are you all right?" He stopped himself before bringing her knuckles to his lips.

"I'm more than 'all right.' I'm perfect, utterly perfect for the first time ever."

"Disagree."

"What?" She glanced up at him, absently pulling their joined hands to her heart.

He swallowed, his attention on their hands, absorbing the sight as fervently as their connection, the touch surpassing skin and racing straight to his chest. "You're always perfect."

Surprise widened her watery eyes, but then she smiled, enveloping him in her color. "I... Tarek?"

"Right. Well, then..." Tarek looked away, not ready to answer her questions, whether voiced or silent. He led her toward the flesh-colored drawbridge leading to Teenesee's keep. "Just remember we're here to work. And"–he waved to a few farmers mining emerald stones from the fields, Empyrean's natural power source–"I don't know what you've dug up during your pilfering sessions in the archives rooms, but Teenesee isn't exactly fond of energy collection."

"I hardly blame her." Lena copied his actions, smiling at unsmiling Empyreans in the fields. This world happened to be the only other world with a population who understood the multi-dimensional universe–and not a soul living here enjoyed that knowledge. "This world doesn't need any help evolving. They're essentially giving away resources to avoid war."

As they drew closer to the keep, his nerves shot up. "So you have educated yourself with a bit of truth. Good." He stepped onto the drawbridge's smooth surface, keeping Lena's hand firmly in his.

"Is Teenesee as dangerous as the histories claim?"

Tarek walked forward, silent for a moment, adjusting to the bounce and sway of the bridge as they advanced farther into the air. Dangerous? Yes, the woman was probably one of the most dangerous beings in the universe. But she was also fair–and smart. All attributes that added up to instant respect on his part.

Finally, before they reached the towering doors, he answered her. "Just remember the truth, Lena. Never forget it."

One heavy, wooden door creaked open as soon as they hit the threshold. Not surprising. Collection in Empyrean was always scheduled, same time, all the time–a stipulation in the treaty. Unscheduled visits to Empyrean were forbidden, and if some idiot rogue Protector thought to go against the rules, Teenesee would make short work of the intruder, keeping the energy as penalty.

The punishment didn't hurt the lawbreaker, not really. Yes, death happened. But death wasn't the end, was it? No, the maleficence only pissed off the Synod. Losing unplanned energy to the next strongest world never boded well, hence the ever-present threat of authority tracking down wayward Exemplians not willing to follow protocol. Hell, the risk of Winston Candell on one's ass usually created enough of a deterrent. The authority captain enjoyed a fair amount of respect, mostly due to fear.

But none of that mattered now, not today. Today, at this exact time, Teenesee expected them.

Tarek chanced a look at Lena, her face now pale and bottom lip trembling. "Breathe, Lena. Just breathe."

She inhaled deep, exhaling slowly. "I don't want to lie."

"Shh..." Tarek clenched her hand tighter. "Don't say that, not here."

"I–"

"No."

Walls had ears, despite the illusion of privacy.

But no one met them as they navigated corridor after corridor. A welcoming party wasn't necessary; Tarek knew the way. Only one room in this cavernous place, with its buoyant marble floors and opulent red silk wallcoverings, could Exemplian collectors go. Anywhere else ventured–a wrong turn or attempt to explore the mysterious Warden's keep–and those ears hiding behind walls turned into weapons held by Empyrean's military.

Tarek had no plans to explore, now more than ever. In and out operation, no deviations. Lying to someone whom he respected tasted bitter, coating his mouth with acid, and he wanted nothing more than to get it over with as quickly as possible. But he'd do it–to keep them alive, he'd say whatever it took. If only Lena had the same outlook on self-preservation.

They passed bust after pedestaled bust of important figures, an homage to those Teenesee and her people held in high esteem. Centuries upon centuries of history revered here, nothing like Exemplar, where only the future counted. As their boot soles thudded against the sleek floor, Lena stumbled while adjusting to walking through a structure suspended in air and taking in the décor at the same time. Tarek steadied her, still quiet, afraid any sound would activate Lena's conscience, make her say something that would get them both killed.

Fucking Cassondra. The woman knew exactly what she was doing, giving them this assignment. A clear message to Lena: stay out of Synod affairs, stop prying, or face consequences.

A woman that dangerous running one of the most important branches in the Synod–unbelievable was all he could come up with.

Finally, the blue door appeared. A blue that didn't resemble the sky, but a bruise, mottled and distorted. The only bruised door in the entire home as far as Tarek understood. And behind that door would be the Warden, more than likely one or both of her daughters, and a cot. Nothing more. In a keep with huge, arched windows allowing the breeze to waft in and polished history everywhere eyes landed, the room was a misfit. A prison-like place with no windows and no color–except the blue door.

He stopped and pulled Lena to his side. Deep breath. Another. He didn't want to knock. More than anything, he didn't want his knuckles connecting with the blue. Sweat dribbled from his hairline and traced down the sides of his face. Lena's hand turned clammy in his, her fingers shaking despite the determined set of her jaw and unwavering gaze. But, they could do this. They could. And when they made it home, he'd go to the elders himself, file a complaint, do something.

"All right," he said, as much to himself as to Lena. "This shouldn't be too hard, the easiest collection you'll ever have, actually."

"Understood." Lena's tongue darted out, wetting her cracked lips, her eyes glued to the oppressive door. "Knock, would you? I don't think I can."

He lifted his free hand. One rap on the door. Two more.

Quiet shuffling answered, followed by the door giving way to a dim room. The woman who answered wasn't Teenesee. No, she was the gorgeous younger version of the Warden. Calian, her eldest daughter. Sleek red hair, smooth ebony skin that begged to be touched, and eyes that glittered topaz.

Surprise brightened her face, the sneer twisting her lips transforming to a beaming light. "Tarek!" Calian said in Empyrean, bowing her head and hiding her smile. "It has been years. Decades."

Oh...right... Calian.

Lena stiffened beside him. Her language translator implant seemed in fine working order. Unfortunately.

Tarek swallowed, trying for professionalism he couldn't quite muster. "I've been Paired again."

Obviously.

He had all but forgotten the woman's...fondness for him, the threat to Lena superseding anything else. The attention used to flatter him when he had come here with Roderick, and he even considered acting on the temptation a time or two. Calian was older than he was by centuries, and no doubt knew her way around a man. But the Warden would've had his head. Death didn't scare him much then, but Teenesee's respect meant more than a tryst with her heir.

Now, looking at Calian's iridescent face, simmering with sex and promise, all Tarek worried about was how Lena reacted to the woman's attention.

Did she care? Did she even notice?

"Come in, Protector. Let us be done with this." Teenesee spoke from the shadows, her lyrical voice as hypnotizing as her face–in the most literal sense possible. All Wardens had particular abilities, and Teenesee's happened to be heightening her beauty. When threatened or in battle, she transformed to an irresistible, dangerous foe. No chance to fight back if you couldn't function beyond a drooling, doting idiot.

Thankfully, the Warden kept her weapon under wraps today, her beauty only mildly paralyzing. Tarek sighed, relieved. At least now he wouldn't embarrass himself by acting like a slobbering twit–not counting his awkward exchange with Calian.

Saving him from more small-talk, Teenesee's voice interrupted Calian's appreciative assessment of him. She stumbled to her mother's side; her eyes apparently not yet finished taking him in.

Tarek bit the inside of his cheek to hold in a groan, especially when Lena jabbed a subtle elbow to his side. She did notice. And her noticing made him ecstatic and ashamed at the same time. How to explain to her nothing happened without explaining why it was so important for him to explain it to her?

He would, though. Tell her about this part of his forgotten past–when they returned home. Lena could yell and accuse all she wanted, and in the deep recesses of his twisted mind, he wanted her to scream and fight. Show she didn't like the woman's appraisal of him. As selfish and backward as it was, he wanted her to hate it.

But...later.

Tarek moved forward, tugging Lena with him. He craned his neck to meet Teenesee's gaze, her frame towering over his six and a half feet of height. "It's good to see you again, Warden."

Teenesee didn't recognize his greeting, letting him know loud and clear she didn't feel the same. Instead, she scrutinized Lena, genuine curiosity gleaming in her jeweled eyes. No one spoke while she evaluated Lena like cattle. Finally, she said, "You are new, are you not? Young."

Lena moved ahead of Tarek, her hands folded demurely in front of her. "I am, Warden. And thank you, for your generosity. I... I am honored to meet you." She hesitated. "As well as your daughter."

Teenesee remained quiet.

Seconds passed. Hours.

If the deafening silence went on any longer, Lena would crack, and Teenesee would kill them. As appealing as a life here sounded, since knowing Lena, Tarek had no plans to live without her–now or during any life after this one.

He dipped his foot into the tension bunching inside the room. "This will be my Guide's first collection, but I assure you that your people are in capable hands." Only a half lie, Lena was capable.

"I shall hope so." The Warden nodded once to Calian. "Leave us, my daughter. I'll not have you distracting this Guide's Protector during her first time."

Well, shit.

Heat traveled up his spine and scorched his cheeks as Calian smiled at him on the way to the door. Before she left, she brushed a hand across his forearm. "Perhaps I'll see more of you." Her gaze slipped to the fuming Lena, whose lips thinned to disappearing. "Now that you've been Paired again."

"Ah...yes... I... Yes." Not smooth, but he never claimed to be.

Once she left, Teenesee gestured toward the cot, a bland, uncomfortable contraption Guides complained about after a collection trip here. Most believed the rickety bed was a silent message from the Warden, a metaphor for Exemplar's intrusion into her world: uncomfortable and unwelcome. "Please, Guide, make yourself ready."

Lena moved forward, her hand out and back straight. "Lena. My name's Lena Mi, and I promise... I..."

No, Lena. Don't. Tarek's hand went to his side, where he holstered a taser on his hip. It wouldn't do much, but maybe it would stun the Warden enough to get Lena the hell out of here.

"I don't like collection, either," Lena finally said in Empyrean, her outstretched hand beginning to tremble. "I don't know what else to say but that."

Teenesee tilted her head and crossed her arms, a slight curve lifting her mouth. Was that respect on the woman's face? Tarek wouldn't know; he'd never seen it before. Not toward him, and not toward Roderick.

The Warden unfurled her arms and actually clasped Lena's hand. "I admire your candor...Lena Mi."

Tarek's grip loosened on his weapon and his knees threatened to give. Now, if Lena would just leave it at that. Please leave it alone.

Lena pumped the woman's hand a few more times, her mouth opening and clamping shut again. Tarek knew her well enough by now; she wanted to tell Teenesee, admit their intended plans. If she did, there'd be nothing left to do but beg the Warden to show mercy, see reason as they had to see it. Cassondra tied everyone's hands, one person with a secret agenda and apathy enough to turn her back on the entire human race to realize her goal.

Without another word–miraculously–Lena released Teenesee's hand and lay supine on the cot, just as she had done a thousand times over in training. Her robes fluttered over the side, the bright white of the fabric making her look both ethereal and vulnerable.

As if a sort of feral instinct commanded it, Tarek rushed over to stand at the end of the cot with his hands resting at his sides, one near his taser. The precaution wasn't necessary for a routine collection in Empyrean, but that didn't concern him.

Teenesee glanced in his direction and raised an eyebrow as she stood at the other end of the cot. He ignored her inquisitiveness to focus on his Guide. "Take your time, slow breaths, imagine your center..."

He crooned the same words again and again as Lena evened her breathing, her hands folded over her abdomen. Cassondra was right about one thing: Lena was a natural.

Her light slipped from her gaping mouth, its green luster animating the dingy cell of a room. Guides in their energy form captivated him before, but Lena's glow, the very essence of her, mesmerized him every time he had the fortune to stand in the same space. This was privilege at its best.

Teenesee held her now-luminous palm over Lena's body, which still pumped oxygen and blood and life as if on mechanical support. "Come, take your life," Teenesee said to Lena's energy.

And even though Lena couldn't respond, she heard.

I'm scared, Tarek.

Advantage of Pairing: Lena could use telepathy with him in this form. Regrettably, he had to speak aloud. Some Protectors had telepathic ability and more, like Winston. But not him.

He wet his dry lips. "Don't be. I'll be right here." He refused to look in Teenesee's direction as he spoke.

Lena hovered just above the Warden's radiant palm, staying inches from her. All Lena had to do was touch the woman's flesh with her light, absorb the lives she reluctantly gave, and zip out of here. It'd only take minutes for Lena to distribute; she just had to collect the damn energy.

You can do it. You can do it. You can do it.

He replayed the mantra in his mind, wishing it would transmit to her. But her green glow floated there, pulsating and hesitant.

"All is well, Lena Mi," Teenesee said. "You must do what you must, and I shall do the same."

The Warden's coaxing helped, and Lena's vacillating light finally bobbed to the proffered energy. As soon as the two orbs released from Teenesee's hand, Lena's energy expanded, the red and gold Empyrean glow turning her green to a rainbow of color. She didn't falter again and rocketed from the room–to give new lives to two people. One would become a "privileged" Exemplian once a rare pregnancy transpired. The other...the other would more than likely start a new life sooner in Andor, a life most certainly filled with fear and hate and pain.

Tarek held still, watching Lena's chest rise up and down, holding his own breath. Just a few more minutes and they'd be finished, with only the aftermath of guilt to handle. He could do that, as long as she was safe beside him doing it, too.

"Your suit," Teenesee said, interrupting his vigil. "Why do you leave it on in here? Do you not feel safe?"

Tarek didn't miss the challenge in her voice. "Of course I do, Warden."

"Then I'm afraid I do not understand."

He didn't answer right away, debating between truth and an empty excuse. Finally, he went with the former. "I promised her."

Silence.

Then, "She is different, is she not?" Teenesee's voice, like music and honey, melted against his ears like a balm.

Different? Too small a word. All the colors, every one...

"Yes," he said, his gaze remaining on Lena's empty shell.

"And you love her." It wasn't a question.

But Tarek wanted to answer, a confessional of sorts. Admit a potentially sinful thought to a woman who cared nothing for the sinner. He whispered, "Yes." To say it aloud, admit it, made him light and heavy. Scared and so ridiculously exuberant.

"It is not hard to understand why, Protector. I have a feeling about her, this Guide." A pause. "She may just change the universe."

His head snapped up, surprise rippling down his spine, prickling his skin. Teenesee didn't give two shits for Exemplians. And she never asked questions, never made predictions. "How do you mean?"

Teenesee smiled. She smiled! "Sometimes, one knows." She smoothed the front of her emerald green tunic, hesitating as if debating her next words. And then she shocked him again–more than shocked him. "Bring her back soon, not to collect, but so I may speak with her."

What? Never had Teenesee–What?

"I... I don't know if–"

"Find a way." She gestured to Lena's body. "My intuition...it is never wrong."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Lena's light ripped into the room, gliding into her open mouth. She lay still. A moment went by, and a few more followed.

Tarek pushed Teenesee's unexpected words to the back of his mind and moved from the end of the cot to sit on its edge, waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

As if a switch clicked, Lena's eyes popped open and promptly filled with tears. A cry left her lips.

Cry, after cry, after cry.

Tarek gathered her in his arms, stroking her hair, whispering incoherent words in her ear, willing all of his strength to seep into her flesh. He rocked her, back and forth, ignoring the fact that a Warden stood in the room next to them. Lena's reaction, it wasn't normal. All of this... feeling.

Of course she was different, and the Warden saw it, just as he always had.

"Lena..." He nuzzled the top of her head, his arms cinching tighter with every sob she gave. Her pain was his pain–her fear was his fear. What happened? What happened to you? But he knew already. He knew.

"Please." She gripped his forearms so tight her fingertips whitened. "Take me home, Tarek. Please take me home."

They were home. Safe. In zero danger of Teenesee's wrath. No, instead the Warden saw something in Lena and demanded he bring her back–to talk.

Tarek had told her what Teenesee said as soon as they were safe in Exemplar's capital, among the monotony of high evolution. He thought she'd be relieved, excited.

He thought wrong.

Maybe that information changed her. But more than likely, the lie Cassondra forced them to tell had done it.

Maybe.

Regardless of the reason, Lena faded. Her color dulled, almost matching the vapid citizens they passed on the way to their dorm rooms. Others well into their third or fourth lives. Others who functioned instead of lived.

Silent. Lena became so, so silent after her tears and pain and clutching to him.

She had refused his reassuring, hollow words, and when they reached her dorm, she had refused his company. "No," she told him, breaking her silence. "With you, I keep feeling, and I don't want to for a while."

So there he lay, on his floating bunk, pissed off and with no one to take it out on. Oh, he had tried. Mateusz was lucky he'd left for the night, now safe in his home away from here, with Kendal and their happiness. The kind of contentment one used to coat ugly truth, burying it under fluff and nothing.

No worries. He'd find his friend tomorrow, and if the bastard hadn't gone to the elders, Tarek would–once he smashed those absurd glasses into the older man's face.

His comp system tick, tick, ticked in his ear, never quiet, always on, driving him insane. Food he had hydrated, pasta or something, sat in the machine's chamber untouched; it steamed and reeked of spices and tomatoes. That smell made his stomach roil.

He turned to his side, flopped to his back, roared in his soundproof room so loud the ticking became invisible. He yelled and yelled and yelled, reaching out to punch the wall behind him, one arm draped over his closed eyes, his bed swaying.

Her pain. It ate at him, gnawed his insides until everything felt raw. Yes, they had to lie. Yes, lying to someone like Teenesee made him feel dirty and sick, but more so for Lena, whose moral compass surpassed his by leagues.

Her depression...like a rebirth.

"Sorry," he said to the vacant room. "I'm so fucking sorry." His hoarse voice was no match for the comp system, its droning tick outlasting his yelling with steady assuredness.

If only he could protect her from everything, especially this world and its cold rules.

Tarek lifted his hands in the air, those tiny scars littering his fingers stark white against his tan skin. He'd fought when protecting Roderick, killed in dangerous worlds when his Guide needed him to. Physically, he could take on so much. Fend off most people and most things. But what hurt Lena at this moment he couldn't shield her from, making him feeble and useless.

So sorry...

If she'd let him help, talk to him, may–

A yellow light flickered above his door, followed by a click and the screen above it flashing on. His comp's tinny, false voice announced, "You've a loiterer outside your chamber, Protector Tarek Montigue. Shall I alert floor authority?"

Floor authority was like the older, weaker grandfather of the Synod's authority. A joke, really. They roamed the dormitory halls looking for infractions that never occurred.

"No, not necessary," Tarek said. He shifted to get a better look at the grainy feed, and his heart expanded, pushing against his rib cage. "Shut down for the evening."

"As you wish," his computer replied. Clacking filled the room as his system booted down into sleep mode, only leaving behind the incessant ticking. It went ignored.

His mouth dry, his body rigid, he zoned in on the screen.

Open the door.

Tarek wouldn't open it for her; the decision had to be hers. But... Please. Press your hand on the panel.

He didn't breathe, didn't move, his gaze cemented to her hesitating form as she stared at the access panel, looked around, and stared at it again, her hands folded in front of her.

Please, Lena.

Finally–finally–her palm lifted. In seconds, his door swooshed open to her standing there, face pale and mouth quivering. Her robes swallowed her thin body, trapping her in fabric. Maybe that was the reason she stood there, watching him with her haunted sherry eyes. His body wouldn't listen, either, when he demanded it to get up and go to her. Just as her robes held her captive, the sorrow on her face imprisoned him, crushed him.

Her body twitched, and she backed up, shooting a quick glance down the hall.

No. No, he wouldn't let her go. But his damn legs, as if his brain were demanding he let her leave, running through all the reasons why she couldn't stay with him. Alone. In his dorm. So he did the only thing he could manage.

He reached his arms out to her.

A sob escaped her throat, slaying him, as she rushed to his bed, the door closing silently behind her. She tripped over her hem, almost falling, but he caught her around the waist and lifted her to his bunk, nestling her against his side. Her tears burned his bare chest as she burrowed her face against his flesh, her fingers kneading his skin as though she attempted to crawl inside him. And if it were possible, he'd have allowed her. Allow their bones and muscle to meld together.

She didn't try to speak as she wept, and he didn't force her. He used his arms and hands to convey what he couldn't say aloud.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Hours had to have passed, centuries, before her heartrending cries softened to spasms, her thin shoulders jerking with involuntary movement. His hold tightened, his thumb rubbing, soothing, as each tremor attacked her.

"I felt them, Tarek." Her raspy whisper brushed against him.

He continued to glide his thumb, up and down, up and down, as he stared at the ceiling. "Who?"

"Those souls. I... I felt their fear and sadness, heard their memories, their dreams." She paused after her voice hitched. "The woman I sent to Andor...she was a grandmother who knitted her children socks and told them stories and loved them with everything she had. And I sent her to live a life of suffering in spite of all that."

"I'm sorry. I..." Such an empty, fruitless word. Empty, empty.

She clung tighter to him. "I can't go back to Empyrean, look Teenesee in the eye, and have her believe I... I'm... I'm not different. I'm a monster."

"No, you're not." He tilted her chin with his free hand, needing her to see the conviction in his gaze. "You're light and color and feeling. You're everything that is opposite of a monster."

Tears welled in her eyes again, but she closed them and rested her cheek on his chest. "I don't deserve you. I don't."

Deserve him? He laughed, a quick, short snarl at the absurdity. "Now you're being ridiculous."

He felt her smile against his skin, so much better than the tears. "That's not exactly the most encouraging thing to say, Protector."

"Well, it's the only thing you're going to hear after saying ridiculous things." He grinned at the ceiling after she snorted and rubbed her nose on him before using her sleeve to dry her face.

"But..." Her voice quieted, back to serious. "I never want to do that again. I can't. That woman, her memories will follow me now. They'll chase me wherever I go...be there every time I close my eyes."

This was why he loved her. No other Guide he knew allowed an energy to affect them as she had. She felt. She cared. People to her weren't a commodity. His thumb stilled on her arm. "Then stay away from the archives rooms, Lena. Do as you're told, and she won't punish you."

She didn't respond, telling him what he didn't want to hear. Her trips to those rooms to dig wouldn't end. At least her tears dried and the tremors abated. He'd give her silence on the subject to prevent more sadness; he'd give her anything just to have her color bloom with its usual luster.

"Tarek?"

His eyes snapped open, the first indication he'd been drifting to sleep–with her in his room. She possessed that magic: the ability to make him whole. Give him peace simply by occupying the same space. "Yes?"

She snuggled closer. "Teenesee's beautiful, isn't she?"

He smiled, taking his hand from her arm to settle on her waist, too relaxed to remember decorum. "She is, but it's not a good thing. Her beauty has killed people." Other Wardens were deadlier, like Andor's. The man could force a person to live their greatest fear with a touch.

"And her daughter?" Lena's body tensed. "She's beautiful, too, yes? And not deadly...just gorgeous."

He wavered, and then simply said, "Yes." Before, he wanted Calian's attention to affect her, but after her crying, the last thing he wanted was for her to feel anything but relief and comfort.

"I saw the way she looked at you." Lena's body remained stone, except for her fingers splayed on his stomach. She nervously pressed against him, causing his entire body to catch fire, ignite from the inside out. Calian's looks didn't have that kind of power, not over him.

Only Lena.

Always Lena.

He slammed his eyes shut–and gave her a piece of his truth. "The same way I look at you."

Her hand stopped, and she gasped, a slight sound full of surprise and...and something more.

Tarek wanted to take back his words. Intimacy of the present made him forget the past. Forget his place. Forget how elders frowned on a Paired couple becoming romantic. Forget they lived only to be a cog in Exemplian's cause.

"Say something." His voice whispered into the room, pleading with her.

She remained quiet, the silence stabbing him in the gut, ripping him apart. Then her fingers resumed their delicate, beautiful torture along the ridges of his abdomen, calming him and scorching him at once. "I want to pretend."

What?

Not good enough.

"Lena–"

"I want to pretend I'm allowed to love you." Her fingers pressed and pressed, as if she were committing him to memory. "And I want to pretend you love me."

Tears burned his eyelids, surprising him. He swallowed. "You don't have to pretend that, Lena." A confession, but not quite, his cowardice too strong to allow more truth to fill the room.

She let a sigh escape, hot against his skin, and he felt her sorrow wet his chest. Her warm tears forced him to purse his lips, curb his own torment. What should have created happiness only amounted to regret, and he had known it would. Exemplian "privilege" came with too many stipulations.

But Lena didn't acknowledge what he'd said; she just continued pretending. "I want to pretend we have a little cottage in Shalen, beside Nan's stone in the orchard. I want to...to pretend I wake up next to you, and we live only for us." Her hand moved from his stomach to his thrumming heart. "For this."

Now, more than ever, the urge to hide her away, love her like he needed to, wrested him. "I want that, too, love." He couldn't tell her he loved her but calling her what he felt came as natural as breathing.

This moment, now, she was his–all of her. And he was hers, as he always had been.

Lena lifted her cheek to find his gaze, her color flowering her face. Her bright eyes shimmered with love and a tinge of sadness. Her love. He wanted her to look at him like that forever. Until the day he died. Longer. "And I want to pretend I know the feel of your mouth on mine. I want to pretend I know..."

She didn't finish.

She didn't have to.

Tamping down all the warnings booming through his head, he pulled her up until they were face to face. He refused to say a word, not wanting the fragility of this new bond to disintegrate to dust, leaving it unexplored.

He leaned up, his eyes locked on hers. The first touch against her lips was tentative, asking, but that small connection sent wave after wave of heat and fire and power through his body. As if he hadn't really lived until his mouth found hers. And when she moaned and demanded more, her lips insistent against his and her salty tears mingling with her taste, he weaved his fingers through her hair and brought her closer, absorbing her. Taking all she gave, and giving everything he was in return.

This.

This was love, all-consuming, unpretending.

Too soon, she broke away, leaving him yearning and ready to beg for more. She searched his eyes, traced his bottom lip with her index finger, and let her tears fall in heavy drops against his cheeks, his swollen mouth. "But it can only be pretend, can't it? They won't let us, not while we're Paired."

"Lena, please." Her name was a plea. A promise. To hell with those bastards. They controlled everything, but they couldn't have this.

She slid from his bunk. "If they found out, our punishment would be worse than what Cassondra did to us. Much worse."

She was right. So absolutely, frustratingly right. But he didn't care.

Tarek swung his legs over the side of the bed and jumped to the floor, stalking the few feet to her. "I would protect you. I'll always protect you."

She smiled a sad, wistful smile and cupped his cheek. She then reached on her toes, kissed the corner of his mouth, and whispered in his ear, "But I'm not strong enough to protect you."

He gathered her into his arms and held her close, screaming inside his brain, crying inside his heart. "I don't need you to–"

"Yes, you do." She pulled away and palmed the access panel. As the door opened, she turned to him. "In my room, one thought repeated in my mind, scaring me. And I had to come here to–" She bowed her head. "I needed you to know, to understand, you're my heart; you have been my entire life. And if anything happened to you...because of me..."

"Nothing will happen." His words were desperate, grasping at something this world would never let him have.

Lena released a quiet sob. "I know."

And then she was gone.

Synod life wasn't all work. Exemplians celebrated things, not many things, but every year, citizens from all sectors–except Heterodox–celebrated Sine Custode.

Celebrate.

Right.

Who wouldn't want to rejoice the day Exemplar's advanced population figured out how to function without a Warden? Whatever happened to the guy–disregarding the fables many passed to younger citizens, the lies–the end of nature became the beginning of a new standard. A synthetic nature.

Tarek threw back the rest of his whiskey and grimaced from the burn. The low murmuring of "celebrating" in the commons wing of the main building aggravated him. So many people crammed in here: Synod members from both Cynosure and Shalen and retired members from Abrogation. People from all levels of the Synod hierarchy attended to thank...well...each other for science and the nonexistence of those pesky miracles nature always provided.

Everyone, excluding the elders.

No one ever saw them, knew who they were, or how many hid behind opaque shields from the rest of the world. They could have been anyone, since talking to them in their little room with their omniscient voices piping in through the speakers–

No, damn it. Thinking about all this shit only made his aggravation escalate.

The origin of the one Exemplian holiday, or the mystical elders, wouldn't get his attention tonight. None of these people interested Tarek, either, not Farren hitting on some Guide in a far corner or Mateusz in deep conversation with a few other overseers, including Avery Larkin.

Only one person concerned him now.

Lena.

She should have been here an hour ago. No doubt she used this opportunity to pry. Everyone who was anyone corralled themselves in this room, away from their computer systems and confidential information. She'd become stealthier these past thirty years, since that day in Empyrean, knowing when to snoop and when not to.

He clenched his fist tighter around his glass. That night, after they returned from their first collection, was the best and worst of his life, and another something he didn't want to think about.

Tarek strode to the closest drink hydrator and punched in another whiskey. As he watched the brown powder moisten and flare with ethyl alcohol, Kendal drifted by, catching his attention.

Well, there you go. A miracle: looked like one other person interested him, and he wished like hell she didn't–not for this reason. He missed her, the woman Kendal was before her last death. His pseudo-mother, who now refused to allow him in her home, wasn't Kendal anymore; she was Kendal's ghost.

Her robes hung on her thinner frame, and air blew from a vent above, lifting the ends of her limp hair to show just how sunken her cheeks had become. A year she'd been this way, since her last rebirth. She'd died three times before and had always bounced back in the month the Synod allowed for acclimation. What made this one harder? What information could she have possibly carried over into her new life that turned her so utterly different?

Tarek sighed. Too many questions with no answers. But she'd come around–she had to. Mateusz wouldn't be able to hide her condition from the higher-ups forever.

He grabbed his drink when the hydrator dinged and watched her float through the crowd, not at all pulling off normal, until she reached Winston standing near the door. Seemed Kendal spent more time with the authority captain than Mateusz since her death.

Interesting. Sad.

One more situation he had zero control over.

He downed his whiskey in one gulp, concentrating on the burn coating his throat, his gaze remaining on Kendal.

"Is this how you spend your time now? Peeping on other people while sulking in the corner?"

Tarek sputtered, his glass slipping from his hand and landing with a splattering clunk on the spongy floor. Janitorial machines scuttled to snatch up his mess without a sound, their robotic limbs dumping the glass shards into their canister bodies. A few people glanced his way as the machines cleaned, their faces showing no interest, just mild irritation as they returned to their conversations.

Yes, those mindless drones weren't surprised.

But his body tingled with both excitement and a fair amount of apprehension. He swallowed, attempted to turn, failed, and swallowed again. No, she couldn't be here, not her...

"Well? You planning on growing enough balls to say hello, or are you gonna keep staring at that poor girl talking it up with Winston?"

He smiled and frowned at the same time, cringing a little at her lack of couth. Finally, he grew those balls she spoke of and faced her with his hand out. "Wilma. It's nice to see you again." Weak, but the greeting was the only one tripping around his mind.

She snorted, not moving to shake his hand. "Is that right?"

"Yes, of course. I... It's been...what? Over a hundred fifty years? Tarek lowered his hand, wiping his clammy palm on his breeches. "I'm surprised to see you at something so tedious."

"Are you, now?" She crossed her arms over her chest, giving him nothing else.

What the hell did she want to hear? Not a thing came to mind, so he kept his mouth shut and stared at her, feeling like a new energy again. A new energy in the presence of greatness.

Her unruly dark curls went everywhere as they always had, framing her pudgy face. The woman was about a foot and a half shorter than he was and as round as she was tall, but her stature never fooled him.

Wilma, on record, was the strongest Protector ever to grace Exemplian soil. Stronger than him, than Winston, Cassondra, everyone.

She kept drilling him with those blue eyes full of life and power, and he cracked. "I don't know what you want me to say," he said.

Her lips twitched, and her eyes danced with what he could only surmise as humor derived from his noticeable discomfort. Finally, she laughed, a loud, obnoxious sound, and slapped him on the chest, sending him back a good inch or two. "You always were too easy, boy."

Calling him "boy" after he had lived for over two hundred years in his first life, and fifty in his second, sounded absurd–but not from Wilma. Who knew how old she was or how many lives she'd lived. Simplest answer: a lot.

Tarek rubbed his now-aching chest, actually happy to see her. She was another anomaly. Strong, capable, and the most "alive" person he knew besides Lena and Farren. An oddity, especially since Wilma had lived for centuries upon centuries.

"So..." What to say to a legend? What? "Where've you been? What branch are you with now?"

She crossed her arms again and jutted a hip. "Well, that'd be none of your business."

His face burned as he grasped for an inane question that wouldn't sound intrusive, though asking her where she worked was as mindless as asking about the weather.

Okay... Let's try this again. "Fair enough. Are you still in the north building? I hear they've renovated the dorms."

Such drivel to ask her, and if he didn't have so much damn respect for the woman, he'd literally run to the other drink hydrator across the room.

She tilted her head with a quick glance over his shoulder. "Nope. Moved on."

"Really? Where?" He crossed his arms, too, mostly to hide his fidgeting.

"That would also be none of your concern."

"Ah..." He let his arms fall to his sides, defeated. Talking to her was like being a newbie and going through ERP training all over again.

Wilma looked over his shoulder a second time, thankfully indifferent to his embarrassment. "Looks like your Guide made it to the party," she said, her gruff voice a little rougher than he remembered.

"How'd you know about my Pairing?"

"I still keep tabs on you, boy." She snorted again, a sound Tarek remembered well, despite over a century of not hearing it. "You were my least annoying student, after all."

"I... Thank you?" he said, and then all his attention turned to his beautiful Guide.

Every color.

Even after all these decades, she was still his beacon, as if a room hid in gray until her color saturated it with life. At fifty-five years old, she appeared twenty, younger than twenty. But her eyes were haunted, their collection trips stealing small chunks of her soul.

If only he could take her pain and give her back the innocence she had before Empyrean.

Relive that night, after they had returned, but under better circumstances.

He wiped the sides of his mouth, watching her as she shuffled toward him, acknowledging people here and there. Wilma went ignored, which had never happened when he occupied the same space as her.

But Lena had that magic...

She made it to his side, careful not to touch him. A precaution they had both adopted after that night. A celibacy he forced on himself that was both torture and the only option available. No other women–none–they didn't even exist for him anymore.

And he was certain if Lena found interest in another man, that man would no longer be breathing. Jealousy was a nasty beast, but an emotion he fortunately hadn't had to experience in reality. Knowing Lena wanted different as much as he did, he settled with what neither of them could give.

Though tonight, Lena barely glanced at him, her cheeks flushed and awe turning her sherry eyes to jewels. He didn't put that reverence on her face. No, her veneration belonged to the irritable, paunchy Protector in front of him.

Lena bunched the front of her robes in her fists, gawking at Wilma is if she were a hologram exhibit. "Protector, it's... Wow... I'm..."

Wilma squinted, nodding with every broken word Lena spat out. When she finally gave up, Wilma raised an eyebrow, and said, "You got some sort of stuttering problem, girl?"

Shock rounded Lena's eyes, her hands clutching tighter to all that white cloth. "N-no?"

"You sure?"

"Um... Yes?"

Tarek moved as close to Lena's side as possible without touching her. Yes, he protected her from everything, even her stuttering tongue. "Nice seeing you again, Wilma," he said with a smile; he couldn't help it. The woman's lack of filter was refreshing. "Maybe we can get together, catch up."

Wilma ran a hand through her messy hair, getting her fingers stuck at her nape. "Yeah, don't hold your breath. Ouch, dammit!" She yanked her hand from her head, bringing with it a clump of black hair she let fall to the floor for the janitorial machines. "As much as I'd like to stay and listen to your Guide try to speak, I gotta go deal with some of these blowhards."

Tarek laughed even as Lena stiffened beside him, forgetting how idiotic this holiday was, and forgetting Kendal's depression. If only they all could view life as Wilma did. "Try not to hurt anyone while you're at it."

"I'll do my best." She punched him in the shoulder on the way to a huddled group of overseers. "They'll be sorry they demanded my presence, I'll tell ya that!"

Tarek tried not to wince as he pressed against his throbbing shoulder. Damn, the woman could throw a punch.

"Oh, no." Lena covered her face, shaking her head. "I made a complete ass of myself."

Tarek pulled her hands away, chuckling. "I wouldn't say complete."

"How do you know her? You never told me you knew her?"

"I don't know, know her. She was one of my instructors many, many, many moons ago." Tarek found Wilma with her boring audience, some of them with bulging eyes and pursed mouths. Whatever she said to them was enough of a surprise to garner real emotion. "She's rough around the edges but smart." He frowned, rotating his shoulder. "And strong."

"More than that! She has telekinesis and telepathic abilities. Her skill with manipulating minds is legend–"

"Wait, wait, wait." He blocked her view of everything in the room but him. "How do you know all this?" Dumb question.

Lena lifted a dainty shoulder, her blush deepening. "I found her file."

"Really? Because I'm almost positive her file is classified." He bit the inside of his cheek to curb his smile.

"Oh, come on! How could I not look? I didn't see all of it, just the important things–her history. Her background is so much like mine, and she's so different. Plus–"

Tarek tamped down the air. "Okay, all right. Save the excuses. I get it." Wilma, like Lena, had no given last name–both original Heterodox citizens. The difference between the two was Wilma had refused to take any arbitrary last name, opting to maintain her one-word moniker. "Anyway, where have you been?" Another dumb question.

Color drained from Lena's cheeks as her Wilma-envy left to make room for worry. She glanced at Cassondra, who held court with some of her minions across the room. "I found out something."

"What?" That look, thinned lips and hardening eyes, meant one thing: whatever she discovered wouldn't be good. Hell, it usually never was.

She tugged on his arm for a split second to get him moving toward the exit. "Not here."

"Where, then?"

Lena didn't answer until they were out of the room and in the lift heading toward the underground shuttle hanger. "Nan's."

Perfect. Where else would they go? He glanced up at the lift's ceiling, counting the cameras pointed at them. No one lurked over shoulders in Shalen, not at their spot, anyway.

Ten quiet minutes later, Tarek landed in the orchard. Lena had already shed her robes to reveal her usual Shalen attire underneath–breeches and a form-fitting top that most Protectors wore. And before the engine cut off, she had her door up and her feet on the ground.

She beat him to Nan's stone and placed the rock she took from Lyrion, a mid-evolved world they had collected from days ago, on a pile of others. A habit she'd begun after their only trip to Empyrean. One stone from every world, and now she had about thirty in her little collection. Some so large he had to hold both the rock and Lena during their return trip home, while others were small enough to fit in her palm. And so many colors made up her pile, from vermilion to onyx to colors so exotic, Exemplar didn't even have a name for them.

They're for our pretend house, she had told him. We're going to build our pretend fireplace with these real stones.

Their pretend. A pretend saturated with love as tangible as those stones.

"So," he said, sitting beside her as she dug in the center of her pile until she found her book. "Tell me."

"Wait. Let me get it down first."

His skin itched as she wrote in her book before speaking, knowing she wouldn't say a word until everything she'd learned sat on a page. Those books were her back up, her "just in case." In case of what, he really didn't know and a question Lena hadn't been able to answer clearly.

What he did know was her mission for most of the last thirty years had been to peel away the lies surrounding Exemplar's nucleus. In their rock pile, right in the center, Tarek constructed a compartment for what had to be at least ten books full of the info she excavated not only on Exemplar, but different worlds, more worlds than he knew existed.

Finally, she slammed the book shut and tucked it into its hidey-hole. "You're not going to believe me."

"Doubt that." Of course he'd believe her.

Lena smoothed back her hair, the wind catching it and flapping it around her pale face. She opened her mouth, hesitated, and focused on the glowing moon, hovercrafts occasionally blinking with the stars. The only sounds penetrating their small piece of bliss were night birds cawing to one another and the sporadic plop of an apple dropping from its branch somewhere in the orchard.

After a few moments, she focused on him, breathed in deep, and said on the exhale, "Cassondra has a brother."

He froze, the twig in his hand falling to the ground. A sibling? Births were rare, but–a brother? "Explain." This wasn't the worst of it. Knowing Lena, she saved the most gruesome detail until the very end.

She bit her lip, her face shaded with the undulating shadows that always accompanied the trees at night. "I... I didn't believe it at first. I thought it was some sort of mistake, a glitch, but then I kept reading the histories."

"What histories, Lena?" he whispered, not sure if he really wanted to know.

As if on reflex, her hand moved to still his bouncing leg. "Arcus's. He...he lives there."

Instantly, his body began to tremble. So, so bad. The world populated with giant tree-squid, the dominant species. Not one human lived there, except Casimir–the Warden.

"Lena–"

"No, I know what you're thinking, but hear me out."

Tarek stood, too fueled by...what? Anger? Fear? "Impossible." He paced, the birds' song now screaming in his ears. "How could that be? Humans can't live there. Only Casimir can survive the elements."

She stood, too, her eyes shining with excitement. "Exactly."

"What? No." He backed up, as if the distance would separate him from her words. "That's–no. Casimir couldn't possibly–"

She straightened her back and lifted her chin.

Oh, no, that look. Not good. Not good at all. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking this is why Cassondra has given Andor good energy and why elders keep allowing it, no matter how many of us complain. I'm thinking she wants to show those crotchety bastards it can be done. You know, save a world from itself, evolve it into a functioning part of the universe."

He stared at her, not comprehending. Then, as if the answer slammed into his brain, everything clicked.

Why the elders denied his request to stop distribution and collection for Andor.

Why Mateusz got nowhere with them, either.

Why Cassondra sent good energy to Andor, energy like the Empyrean woman who still invaded Lena's dreams.

"She wants to get permission to do the same with her brother's world," he said. "Start with the most dangerous, change it, and then maybe...prove Arcus won't be as difficult?"

She nodded so vigorously, he feared her neck might snap. "Yes."

"But humans can't survive there," Tarek repeated as if that were enough information to argue the point. "And if you're right, Casimir's Exemplian. How could he be Warden of a different world?"

"I don't know, but going to the elders is out. I've no doubt they know already, and asking them would only put me in danger of a Tainted judgment for infiltrating classified files." Lena went to him and cupped his cheeks. "Only a Warden could give us the answers."

"And which Warden do you propose we ask?" But he already knew the answer, and it terrified the hell out of him. He covered her hands, absorbing her warmth and selfishly holding on to her touch for a few stingy seconds longer.

Lena moved her hands from his cheeks to rest on his chest–another clear violation of their unspoken, no-touching rule. "You know who. It's time we go back to Empyrean–and finally have that talk with Teenesee."

Empyrean Request Rejected. New Assignment: Collect from Parturit Arbos. Distribute to Parvus/strong, Cavae/weak. Tomorrow before dusk.

Tarek stared at his comp's screen, the flashing red letters blinking, blinking, blinking.

Four times in the last week, the same three words dinged into his room from Dimension Development after Tarek put in the request. Except this time, they attached another assignment to it, a subtle "Shut the hell up and stop bothering me."

Jackasses.

Tomorrow was Empyrean's quarterly collection day. Now they'd have to wait another three months before attempting to get to Teenesee. Until then, he'd have to try to keep Lena from the archives rooms. What she discovered about Cassondra and her brother wouldn't sit tight for too long. No, Lena would want more information. More evidence to prove Exemplar was the evil overlord unjustly ruling the universe.

Yes, Lena had appointed herself humanity's savior a long time ago, taking the Exemplian oath to an entirely new extreme.

Tarek rubbed his scalp, his empty laugh filling the room as his stomach turned sour. Cassondra's punishment all those years ago continued to haunt them both. Three decades later and Lena still hadn't forgiven herself for sending that Empyrean woman's energy to Andor–the world full of nothing but hate. Retribution fueled Lena's drive, but now she'd have to put that on hold, which would undoubtedly piss her off.

If only her quest for justice didn't supersede everything else.

He sighed and booted down his machine. She had waited thirty years to go back to Empyrean. Hopefully she could wait a while longer–and he'd make sure she kept her tenacity at bay until then.

Now for the hard part: breaking the news to her.

Food he'd hydrated earlier now sat like stones in his gut, his nerves tumbling it about until he had to give in and inject a nausea blocker. Okay, breathe. No puking, not yet, anyway.

After his stomach finally decided to listen, Tarek donned a shirt, tucked in the hem, laced his boots, smoothed back his short hair, and went through about a hundred more needless tasks before leaving his dorm for Lena's.

The looming conversation wasn't exactly high on his list. More than likely, he'd have to talk her out of storming Cassondra's office to demand she change their assignment to Empyrean. That definitely wouldn't go over well. Not. At. All. Perhaps he'd carry out his usual threat of tying her up until reason overrode retribution.

The halls buzzed with hive-like efficiency, everyone ignoring him as he rounded corner after corner. Everyone except for some floor authority drones scouting the halls. One even stopped him with a few arbitrary questions when he drew closer to a screening room, different worlds flashing on at least fifty screens while Guides from Dimension Development studied them. Their faces were expressionless as they watched unknowing people drudging through their day, people with no clue about reality, believing their world was the only one in existence.

Exemplar had eyes everywhere, the universe's watchdog.

Finally, he reached Lena's wing, her door last on the left. Despite the anxiety rippling through his nervous system, approaching her dorm always filled him with longing. His life dwelled beyond that barricade of metal and stale technology, his everything.

Tarek paused at the end of the hall, adjusting his wrinkled shirt–stalling. Enough. Go tell her. He shuffled forward, his gait slowing with each step, the cowardice attacking him not ready to relinquish its spot.

Once he made it to her room, he lifted his hand for the access panel, though his clearance was unnecessary. The door opened to Lena standing on the other side. She dragged him in by his rumpled shirt without a word. Not that she had the strength to move him, but he went along with it. Any excuse for her to touch him.

Pathetic.

But pathetic was fine with him, had been for a long time now. Gave him character–something he tried to convince himself of during those endless nights without her.

"So?" she said as soon as her door shut. "Was it another 'no'?"

Tarek pursed his lips and nodded.

He expected rage, anger at least. Shouting and maybe throwing things around her cramped dorm.

He didn't expect her calm.

This reaction scared the shit out of him.

She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, her face resolute. "Well, all right, then. Time for Plan B."

"Plan B?" He stepped forward, ready to–damn. He had no clue. "Lena, whatever you're thinking..."

She rushed to her bed and yanked open a box sitting at the end. "I'm done with thinking." She turned to him, a contego suit in her hands. "We're going there. Tonight."

"No. Absolutely not. That's the exact opposite of what we're doing." He gripped her shoulders and hunched until they were eye level, trying to emulate her calm on the outside while terror scorched him inside. "If we get caught, and if Teenesee doesn't kill us, we'll be marked Tainted." He gave her a shake when her gaze slid behind his shoulder, his terror now squeezing his lungs. "Listen to me! They'll execute us and send our energy off to a low-level world, or worse. Put us in one of those damn rooms, turn our minds against us."

"I know the risks." She focused on him again and lifted a hand to his cheek. "But everything will be fine. Teenesee... She invited us."

He squeezed her shoulders tighter. "Thirty years ago. Why? Why is it so important to talk to her this minute?"

Red stained her cheeks and her eyes narrowed to slits. "Are you serious?" She escaped his hold. "I'll tell you why, Tarek. Because I'm tired of being a monster!"

"You're not a monster, Lena. And this...this fight, or whatever it is, we can't do it alone." He rubbed the back of his neck, frustrated. All he had to do was tell her no, and this matter would drop. She couldn't leave without him. Just tell her no!

Lena's bottom lip trembled, even as she held her chin high. "If we talk to Teenesee, tell her everything, get her support, we can stop Cassondra from sending any more undeserving energy to Andor."

Wait. No. This wasn't the plan, truth spreading. If Lena told Teenesee what they did to her people all those years ago, what Exemplar was still doing to them...? No. She couldn't.

Tarek closed his eyes for a moment, his fists clenching and unclenching, not answering at first. Panic wouldn't let him. "You can't tell her," he whispered.

She paced the tiny room, her excitement palpable. "I can. And after I tell her the truth, show how I want to help, she'll tell me what I need to know, too. Exemplians being Wardens... I need to know if it's true."

"Lena–"

She stopped in front of him, acting as if he hadn't tried to speak to her. "And if the elders are aware of Teenesee's anger, they'll be forced to stop Cassondra. No more strong energy to Andor and definitely no energy to Arcus. Exemplar can't survive without Empyrean resources. Our entire healthcare system is dependent on those emerald rocks they pull from the ground."

She regurgitated everything he already knew–and nothing he cared about above her life. "None of this matt–"

"It does matter! If Wardens are actually Exemplians, then...then all the energy collecting has been one big lie. It'll prove that evolution and the greater good hasn't been the truth at all, just the strengthening of Exemplar and the Synod's control of the universe. Something we contribute to!" She threw her hands in the air, a suit leg whipping her cheek. "Please. I have to know."

He stared at her, not speaking, trying to grasp onto control, refrain from tossing her floating bed into her ticking comp system.

"There's no law against being truthful with a Warden," she said, now twisting the contego suit into a ball. "We can't be marked Tainted if, during our invited trip, the truth accidentally comes out."

He exhaled as her logic soaked into his growing anxiety. Faulty logic, but she made enough sense. No laws did exist, seeing as most Exemplians sent on collection assignments had apathy that rivaled Cassondra's.

And they could leave Exemplar. Go to other worlds, as long as they were back in their dorms at curfew. Only Empyrean had a no-trespassing stipulation in the treaty...

Which happened to be the biggest problem. The chance of Teenesee killing them was a high probability.

Yet, she had invited them, something she had never done that he was aware of, and thirty years were like days to a Warden who had lived for probably as long as her world existed.

Tarek scrubbed at his hair. All of this became too complicated, and he wanted to tell her no.

But he never could.

His gaze landed on the bunched suit in Lena's hands. "What's this?"

"A contego suit."

He rolled his eyes, pissed that he was actually contemplating her idea. "I know what it is. Why do you have it?"

"Contrary to your belief, I'm not looking to die, and since we won't be collecting..." She smiled.

"You're completely, annoyingly impossible." He gestured to her bed where the box sat. "How'd you get it–wait, just..." He shook his head. "Don't tell me."

She clapped her hands together and excitement sparkled in her sherry eyes as if she were years younger. "So, are we going?"

Damn it! When she looked at him like that, all anticipative and trusting, he had no power. None. He sighed. She had the magic to persuade him to do anything. "Well, today's good as any to die, I guess."

She laughed and lifted the hem of her robes, shimmying into the suit. "You're such a worrier."

"That makes one of us."

Her robes lifted to her thighs, and he caught a hint of creamy flesh, undoing him. He forced himself to face the door, although Lena was an expert at switching wardrobes without revealing too much skin. But the tiniest glimpse shot lightning through his nervous system. He couldn't even swim with her anymore unless she wore a bodysuit. Pathetic was one thing, self-torture he could live without.

While she fussed with her clothes, he worked to slow his breathing, and said, "I don't want to open a portal at the collection post, too many people." If only a portal block didn't exist in all the dorm wings. "The safest place without a block would be–"

"Nan's."

Right.

The sound of her heavy robes landing on the bed echoed behind him. "You can look now," she said. "I hate talking to your back."

He turned, and almost stumbled backward. She looked vulnerable and strong at the same time.

So perfect, different.

Always different.

Something came over him while staring at her thin body drowning in that too-large suit. Courage? No, more like desperation. Maybe going on a potential suicide mission stoked the fire he had kept on embers for years. But regardless, words left his mouth before he had a chance to swallow them.

"Well, I don't hate when you undress in front of me." He moved to press the button on her waist, her heat seeping through the fabric as the suit shrunk to fit her. Her scent, what saturated her dorm as well as her skin, assailed him. Lilacs, like the flowers blooming in their orchard.

"Um..." She gaped at him, little gasps escaping her mouth when his fingers skated across her side.

He leaned in next to her ear. "My willpower can only stretch so thin."

Rarely did he ever bring up their "pretend." But times like this, with his anxiety high, and danger so, so close, he needed to remind her. Make her understand how she affected him.

"I..." She paused, swallowing. "Maybe... I mean, we–"

"Don't." He dropped his hand, defeated. Stupid of him to bring it up now. Stupid. "I'm not satisfied with 'maybe.' Never is better, easier to deal with."

She bit her lip and looked away.

He'd fight to transform their pretend to reality until every ounce of life left his body–but only if she gave him more than a "maybe." Yet, asking that of her before running toward probably the least intelligent decision he had ever made was unfair to them both.

"Put your robes back on. Don't let anyone see the suit." He went to the door and palmed the access panel. "I'll get mine and meet you in the hanger."

She said nothing else, and he didn't expect her to.

The ride to Shalen remained quiet. Not because either of them wanted to continue the conversation he started in Lena's dorm, which he didn't at that moment, but authority even rigged the shuttles with listening devices. Only personal dorms were free from prying ears, the one law elders gave in favor of Synod members.

Privilege...

Tarek landed close to Nan's tree, killing the engine. Here they were, ready to take the biggest risk in their history together. As her Protector, he was failing. Lena deserved someone stronger–someone who didn't love her as thoroughly as he did.

An issue he couldn't solve. Loving her was as natural and necessary to him as his heart beating.

Without a word, he got out and headed toward Nan's tree, Lena right behind him. Once they sat, he again broke their no-touching rule and brushed her cheek with a fingertip, memorizing her as he always memorized her, taking mental snapshots of each moment. "Are you sure about this?"

She turned into his hand before he could pull away, surprising him. "No."

"Then why do it? We can wait, try to get an assignment there, talk to Teenesee without any fear of repercussions."

Tears slipped down her cheeks and wet his palm, killing him. "I'm so tired, Tarek. Tired of being this thing who steals life. Thinking about the lives that I'm going to live here, working for them as a monster, it makes me sick. I just... I don't want to lose me." Her hand came up to cover her heart. "But I'll do it, live here life after life, as long as you do because...I don't ever want to live without you, even at the danger of losing myself."

His heart stopped. She had never... Not since that night, so many years ago. He knew they both felt the same, an unspoken pledge to each other. But she had never said it.

Now, more than ever, he wanted to take her from this world. Hide her. But he couldn't, an impossibility due to their Exemplian "privilege." So he gave her the only promise he could keep, a promise not even Exemplar could steal from them. "Wherever you are is where I'll be. In this world or another, I'll always find you."

Tears shimmered brighter in her eyes, and she snuggled to his side. "You know you can't."

He wrapped his arms around her, wishing his faith could absorb into her skin. "I can, and I will, Lena. You will never have to be without me. I won't let them take that."

Silence filled the air, except for her quiet sobs. What to say? How to make her believe? Maybe he needed to stop this now, stop the emotion before they couldn't go back to their normal, to the secrets Exemplar forced them to keep.

But then she gave him everything.

"I love you, Tarek. I wish I had told you that every day. I wish so many other things." Her confession was a whisper, but powerful enough break his heart and mend it at the same time.

Why did this moment have to be the first time she said those words? Yet, he'd take what she gave and lock her words away, refuse to give them back.

He kissed her cheek. "And with every breath in my body, I love you. I will always love you, no matter how many lives we live." He told her with his lips touching her skin, as he always wanted to tell her.

Her body quivered under his touch. "So, what do we do now? How do we...?" She pulled back and met his gaze. "How, Tarek?"

Optimism sprouted in his chest. "We just do it, love." This, exactly this, was all he had ever needed from her. He wanted to yell at the star-lit sky, thank whatever it was that made her change her mind.

But then he looked at her, really looked at her.

Her smile fell as if reality barged into her mind. "Wait. I... Wait. I don't thi–"

"No, Lena. No. Trust me." He covered her balled fists, massaging her fingers until they relaxed.

"I do trust you."

"Then don't say what you were going to say."

Worry still stained her face, but she nodded.

He said nothing else for a moment, afraid to break the connection. Afraid to give her a reason that would change her mind. But he had to make one thing clear.

He pushed to his feet, lifting her with him. "Let's go." He hesitated. "But this will be the only time, Lena. I won't put you in danger again to clear your conscience. I want to love you, without any threat outside of keeping it from the elders."

She met his gaze. "I want that, too. I need it."

Tarek smiled. "Good."

Her hand came up to his cheek, drawing small, fiery circles on his skin. "Your dimples... I dream about them. I dream about you."

Love. The word was too small, not colorful enough. He pressed a lingering kiss on her lips, a chaste touch, reverent. If he had it his way, they'd spend the night under different circumstances. But her morals wouldn't allow either of them to forget.

"Starting tomorrow, I'm going to build you that cottage," he said. "With a fireplace made of your stones, right here, away from everyone."

She scrunched her brow. "But, how can we do that? Live together? Not to mention buy this land?"

"I have almost three hundred years of funds I've never spent." He shrugged, his mind made up. "And Protectors live with their Guides all the time."

"Not up here, they don't."

"Well, we'll just have to change the status quo, won't we?" He smoothed a thumb across her cheek, her velvet skin causing his to spark. "Ready?"

She inhaled and exhaled slowly. "Wherever you are, right?"

"Right."

Yes, they'd have to be careful, and yes, they were about to blow the cap off some shady Exemplian activity. In reality, they'd always have to look over their shoulders now–a small price to pay to be able to love her. Finally.

Finally.

He should've known better.

"What's wrong?" Lena looked up at his outreached hand.

He didn't answer, sweat now pouring from his skin. Even as he tried to force the tear open, he knew the struggle was futile. Someone blocked him. Someone a hell of a lot stronger than he was.

"Tarek?" Lena's fingers curled into his shirt, the hum of his suit underneath adding to his panic.

He lowered his hand, shoved her behind his back, and pulled his taser from his holster. "Someone's blocking me." As the words left his mouth, an authority shuttle hovered close to the ground before landing silently beside his.

"Oh, no." Lena clutched his sides, her fingers digging into his skin. "Oh, no, oh, no."

Tarek held his taser, waiting. He couldn't reassure her, tell her everything would be fine. No one had ever bothered them up here. Not once.

Somehow, some way, authority knew everything. And now they'd pay for it.

The shuttle door opened, and he almost lifted Lena over his shoulder and took off running. It would've been pointless, though.

No one got away from Winston.

"What's going on here, big man?" Winston sauntered over, calm and completely deadly. "You planning a trip?"

Tarek backed up, one arm behind him grasping Lena, whose shaking body vibrated against his back. "Obviously you know, don't you, sir?"

The tattoos peeking from the collar of Winston's suit stood out on his dark skin, evidence he'd spent some time in Heterodox. He crossed his arms, no weapon in his hands. He didn't need one. "You got to be careful where you talk about things."

What? They were careful. The only place he and Lena discussed anything was in Shalen and in their dorms–Oh, no. "They tapped our rooms."

"Cassondra tapped your rooms. She has a knack for that covert shit. Believe me." Winston looked behind Tarek. "Come on out, Lena. I ain't going to hurt you."

When Lena moved, Tarek stopped her. No. He didn't trust anyone, especially the authority captain.

Winston smirked. "Cute. But you holding her behind your back wouldn't do anything if I were in a different mood."

Still, she stayed behind him as he said, "If you have no plans to arrest us, then why are you here?"

"Because I like you. And you're lucky Cassondra likes me. Woman confides in me more than I care to admit."

Tarek spared a quick glance behind him at Lena, knowing what Winston's revelation would mean to her. Excitement lit her eyes. Yes, exactly. Of course he knew her. The authority captain just made it onto Lena's list of people for future interrogation. He faced Winston again, grateful that for whatever reason in the past, he made a decent impression on the guy. "Thank you, sir." What else could he say?

Winston unfurled his arms and gestured to the sky. "Don't thank me yet. After I unblock you, and you still decide to take off for Empyrean?" He waved his hand, and instantly Tarek felt the lines open up to him again. "When I come after you there, I won't be so friendly."

The wind was still and the birds quiet, as if understanding the severity of the situation. Apples and lilacs that usually comforted him turned his stomach inside out, the odor too sweet, too innocent.

Damn.

This was it, then. Nothing else they could do.

Lena pushed on Tarek's back until he let her by his side, and said, "It's illegal to tap our rooms."

Winston laughed. "So is snooping around in the archives rooms. What's good for you, gotta be good for her."

Lena stood closer to Tarek's side, her body a delicate flower in a windstorm. "I didn't–"

"You did, and she knows. And the only reason she hasn't had authority snatch you up is because her curiosity led to illegal activity of her own. Last thing she wants is to go to the elders with info she got from personal chambers."

"Well, I'm willing to deal with them." Lena stood taller, moving away from Tarek, making his nerves jump. Winston might be an impossible foe, but he could be the front line if the captain decided to get pissed, giving Lena a slim chance to get away. "My infraction is mild compared to hers. No Exemplian willing to sacrifice their life to the cause shou–"

"Save it, Guide." Winston held up a hand. "Whatever you found, she don't like it. Don't care what you know, either, but it bought you her personal attention, and that ain't good."

Lena's face paled, but she said nothing. She only shared her secrets with Tarek.

Winston leaned back on his heels, his tone carrying nothing but calm truth. "So again, since I like your Protector, I decided to cut you a break, warn you to knock your shit off."

"Why?" Lena stepped forward. "It can't only be because Tarek's a good guy. You risked a lot coming here for a simple 'like.'"

Winston stayed silent, staring holes into Lena's unflinching face. When she dug for information, she forgot everything else, including potential danger. Then he said, "You ain't the only one who knows the truth about things. And you ain't the only one who hates it."

Yes, the man definitely made her list.

But now he also piqued Tarek's interest. Kendal's depressed appearance slid into his mind–and so did her new habit of spending time with Winston. "People like who?"

"Don't worry about it." Winston's eyes hardened. "I'm telling you this as a favor." He pointed at Tarek, some of his calm evaporating. "Don't. Go. If you do, I'm coming for you."

"But we were invited," Lena said, her voice airy. "Teenesee asked me to come to her."

"That won't go over well with anyone; the treaty has no bend in it." Winston turned, heading back to his shuttle. "She knows what you're planning, and she's already got my platoon waiting for that moment you punch through Empyrean's line. Satellites are pointed and ready, shooting every angle of Teenesee's keep. Don't go."

Lena ran after Winston, her desperation causing her to stumble in the tall grass. "Wait, please! What truth do you know? What? You can't just leave!"

But he did, without even a backward glance.

She spun to Tarek as Winston's shuttle jetted into the night. "What now? What do we do?"

He holstered his taser. "Nothing. We do nothing. It's over." All of it was over. This fucking place would never let them live. Ever. Cassondra heard everything. Everything.

"No, it can't be over. There has to be another way." She hurried to him, bunching his shirt in her fists. "We can't let her win."

"It's not about winning," he whispered, unwinding her fingers from his shirt. "All it's ever been about is surviving. Something we forgot." He dragged his body to their shuttle, trying to keep the fury inside, keep it from exploding.

"I won't accept it. I won't."

He lifted the doors then turned to her. "Get in, Lena."

She glared at him, her face so white it reflected the moon. "There are other people, more information to know. Winston said so. Maybe we can find out who, and–"

He held up his hand, done with this. Done with all of it. Her death flashed in his mind, a waking nightmare–and the fuel he needed to ensure it didn't happen. She wouldn't persuade him of anything, not anymore. The only worry he had now was protecting Lena from Cassondra's wrath. "Whoever he's talking about is as chained to this place as we are. Don't you see that?"

She shook her head. "Maybe not."

Yes. Done.

He lunged for her, sweeping her up and carrying her to the shuttle, dumping her into the passenger seat.

"Hey!" Lena pounded on her door to no avail. He had it locked and secured.

When he jumped in, he said, "You want to know who he's talking about? Kendal. Trust me. And that woman hasn't been okay since her rebirth." He smacked the steering lever with a yell. "We're finished! No more. This has to stop now."

She swallowed, her throat bobbing as fat tears dripped from her eyes. Defeat drained her face even more. She understood. Kendal didn't have enough sanity left to help anyone. "Are you certain it's her?"

He lifted the shuttle into the sky. "No, but that's one thing we can find out." Tarek steered toward home. "Stop talking. Her ears are everywhere."

Hours later, he paced his dorm, Lena mute on his bed, afraid to go to her own room, afraid to speak in his. In the silence, his comp system dinged. "You've a new message, Protector Tarek Montigue, from Dimension Development."

Tarek stopped in front of his machine, glanced at Lena, and then read the screen.

Assignment Update: Collect weak energy from Andor. Distribute to Arcus. Leave at dawn.

Tarek had only been to Andor once with Roderick. The trip a warning, his prior Guide had told him.

See this desolation, Tarek. Take it in. These people are not really living, their lives full of despair. Live pure, and accept your privilege, for an impure life will lead to a world such as this.

Back then, he had believed Exemplar's population mirrored Andor's–no one actually living.

Not anymore. This world and its people were lost, completely.

Even before their portal closed in an alley, Tarek shoved Lena into a burned-out building with a rusted vehicle with its front end smashed through the window. He pressed her up against the truck when stray bullets peppered their hiding spot. More shots from antique guns sliced the air, one whizzing past his ear. They were in the middle of a capital city where the Warden resided. Out of the entire world, this place, with its killing and stealing and raping was the safest to be.

He pushed Lena tighter against the truck as the shots continued to pummel their spot. One Andorian came too close to the shattered window, his toothless sneer and dirty face pointed to Lena. The man lifted his weapon.

Tarek drew his gun faster, his shot hitting the heathen between the eyes. No tasers this trip. His weapon–with soul-stealing bullets that absorbed energy as soon as it broke skin–clicked as it powered up again. If the Warden wanted the man's energy, he'd have to dig the bullet out of his skull.

He kicked the prone body away and grabbed Lena's shoulders. "Stay beside me. Only a few more yards to go." Screams and fighting swallowed his words.

Lena, pale and terrified, kept her focus on him, her gaze not moving from his. "Why... Why would they give us these coordinates? Why wouldn't Mateusz tell us...?" She didn't finish, and he didn't have to explain. She already knew the answer.

As in all other worlds outside of Exemplar, the Warden's home had blocks around it. This location was as close as Mateusz could get them.

"The Warden's place will be safer." At least out of gunshot range. "We can make it."

He didn't convince her, her grip on the rusted truck not easing up.

Tarek leaned in until he blocked out everything from her view. With an unsteady hand, he covered her whitened knuckles while never taking his gaze from hers, giving her as much calm as he could muster as shots and sounds of people dying rendered the air. "Trust me," he whispered in her ear.

Her hold loosened only to palm his humming suit. "We're going to die here, Tarek."

"No. We aren't." He scouted a path as a lull filled the rundown street, only a few cracks of gunfire in the distance. "All right. Let's go."

He jerked her to his side with one hand and lifted his weapon with the other. If anything stood in their path, whether it be an animal or Andorian, he'd end them.

They raced a zigzag pattern, ducking into alleys between dilapidated buildings and piles of garbage when the fighting kicked up again. Neither of them spoke as they sprinted for the doorstep of the only building not in danger of crumbling in on itself. Tarek hauled Lena in front of him, using his back and the door to shield her from all the chaos. He pounded on the dented metal, once, twice.

Nothing.

He tried again.

Death lingered everywhere, the whipping wind saturated with rotting and charred flesh as it swirled around them. Gravel in the air smacked against his neck, his contego suit only reaching his collarbone.

Dammit! Tarek pounded a fourth time, ready to give up the assignment, face the elders with his failure. Finally, the door swung open long enough for them to slip inside.

Pitch-black quiet greeted them, but his ears still rang from the pandemonium they left outside. No way to live, always fighting. These people, he didn't know whether to feel sorry for them or put a bullet in all their heads.

"Set your weapons on the ground." A gravelly voice sneaking from the shadows caused Lena to jump, a scream escaping her lips.

Tarek held her closer. "No." He couldn't see anyone, the coward still hiding in the darkness. But he heard the clicking of engaging guns, the archaic sound something he knew well, despite the dated weaponry.

"Now," the phantom voice said with more force.

Tarek's grip tightened around his weapon. "No. Either that will have to suffice, or we'll leave." And he would. He'd take Lena from here and hide her away in another world, Tainted threat be damned. As far as he was concerned, Cassondra was the traitor, not them.

A chuckle as biting as acid eating through steel filtered through around them. Dim lights flickered on to show ten men, all with greasy hair, rotted teeth, and ripped clothes. They stood like sentinels in a hall that led to a slight figure standing by an open doorway. "Welcome to my home, Protector."

Ajax.

Tarek aimed at the closest roughneck. "Call off your people, Warden, or I'll shoot every one of them."

The Warden chuckled again. "No need for hostility." He sauntered forward, pulling his gloves off finger by finger. "No one here wishes you or your little Guide harm."

Tarek didn't take his gaze off the Warden's fingers as he leaned in next to Lena's ear. "Don't let him touch you."

She didn't answer, her body quaking harder.

If the bastard brushed so much as a fingertip against the skin, his victim would live their worst fear–a tactic Exemplians had adopted using technology. A punishment worse than an execution and having energy sent to a lower world.

"Oh, come, now. Enough of that." Ajax tucked his gloves in his topcoat, his clothes impeccably clean and tailored. The man looked like a genteel politician, with pleasant features surrounding hard black eyes. "Rudeness is highly unnecessary."

Tarek remained silent, his scrutiny bouncing from face to contemptuous face in the hall.

"This won't continue; I swear to you." Lena's trembling voice filled the bloated quiet.

The Warden clapped his hands together, smiling. "Aren't you a sassy one? Lovely!" He gestured to his minions, and all of them faded into the shadows. Their smell still permeated the air, unwashed bodies and decay. "Follow me, won't you?" Ajax turned on his heel, whistling as he waltzed into the open room.

Lena went to follow, but Tarek held her back. "Remember what I said." When she didn't acknowledge him, he gave her a subtle shake. "Lena! Don't let him touch you."

Beyond her fear, he saw her complete faith in him, something he didn't deserve. "You remember, too."

"Promise." He took her hand, keeping it secured in his, and followed the Warden through the open door.

The room glimmered, colored lights racing from wall to wall. A chained animal, some sort of three-headed rodent as large as a deer, snarled and snapped its three maws as he and Lena drew closer to the Warden, whose smile was as unsettling as the sporadic lights.

Lena moaned, slumping against his side.

"Are you going to make it?" Tarek held her up, her body quivering in his grasp.

"I... Yes... Give me a moment." She rubbed her eyes, blinked a few times, and then kept her focus on the ground, flinching with every growl and yap from the tethered animal in the corner.

Rage blackened his sight as he led Lena to a tattered chair in the far corner of the room, away from the beast. He then stood in front of her to confront the Warden. "Turn off the strobes."

Ajax laughed again; his refined chortle cut like razors against Tarek's skin. The sound embodied nightmares, plain and simple. "You don't like my décor? Pity. I quite enjoy it."

"She won't be able to concentrate."

The Warden's smile turned frigid. "Her issues are not mine, Protector."

Lights continued to slash through the room, now moving faster, making his head spin. "You bast–"

"Tarek." Lena's hand warmed his leg through his vibrating suit, her grip tight, pinching.

He shut his eyes against the flashing assault and breathed in before opening them. "Fine. Let's finish this."

Ajax moved to stroke his salivating pet, the animal becoming docile under its master's touch. "Yes, let's." His tone quieted, secrets hiding behind its tenor. He stopped petting his rodent long enough to hold up his glowing hand. "Always good to dispel of bad energy. How kind of Cassondra to be so concerned about my world. You must thank her for me."

Cassondra... Ajax knew her by name–uncommon for a Warden to know an overseer. No, Tarek didn't like this. Not at all.

He turned to Lena, holding out his hand. "We're leaving."

Shock brightened her ashen face. "We can't, Tarek. You know we can't."

Tarek took her elbow and hefted her up to the music of the animal's jaw-chomping anger. "We can."

She struggled in his hold, thrashing and hitting, her panic bleeding from her skin to seep into his. "No! You won't do this. You won't sacrifice yourself. I won't let you."

Ah, she knew him. If he forced her home, the elders would only try him for insubordination. The satellite feed would show Lena's struggle–exactly what he wanted.

He dragged her to the door as the Warden laughed, all of this an amusing game. A game Tarek was finished playing.

Tarek braced himself for Lena's screams and beating against his chest on the way out.

He didn't prepare himself for her body to go lax in his hold and her brilliant green energy to escape her mouth. "Lena!" He lifted her body into his arms as her energy zipped to Ajax's waiting hand.

I will not let you...

Her voice whispered in his mind, crushing him cell by cell. She left him paralyzed, handicapped to do anything except stand there while she took bad energy from that cackling bastard to Arcus, another world unfit for humanity.

As her light escaped through the ceiling, the Warden's laughter stopped. The room transformed into a dark abyss, and blackness folded him in, a thick blanket stealing his ability to fight.

"Your Guide is a curious one, isn't she? A pariah among a population of sameness. A dangerous venture for a person to take on."

Why would he say that?

Oh, no.

Not possible. Cassondra wouldn't–

Yes, she would. Their punishment for Lena digging into the overseer's personal life wasn't an assignment to Andor. It was a death sentence.

Tarek turned off his suit's glow and held Lena's body closer, backing up as quiet as air until he hit the wall. Maybe if he stayed silent, unmoving, Ajax wouldn't find him. All he had to do was wait for Lena to come back, just minutes, and they could leave. No one had ever killed a Warden, ERP training claiming it impossible. But he'd test that theory if the bastard wanted to stop them.

"Oh, please, do hide." Ajax's chuckle slithered through the darkness, his pet's heavy breathing following him. "It will be fun to seek you out."

Sweat leaked from every pore, Tarek's skin raw against his inactive suit. One touch from the man and everything would end. Everything.

"She will not hinder my world's growth. I will not allow it." In the next breath, Ajax's voice whispered in his ear, hot and searing. "It's time we end her crusade, don't you think?"

Before Tarek could move, a feathery touch glided across his cheek. He looked down, and horror filled him until he couldn't breathe.

Empty. No Lena.

No Lena!

He searched the room, now bathed in incandescent light. No Warden. Only the mangy rodent remained, its needle-sharp teeth bare. The chain holding it creaked, in danger of breaking.

"Lena!" Where are you? Where are you?

He stumbled to the soiled chair, falling into it as thoughts attacked his mind. Alone in Arcus, alone in Arcus. That had to be where she was. He left her there unprotected to come here to...to... Why? Why was he here?

He searched the room again. No, no, she was there. Hidden. Her body hidden and her energy...vulnerable. "Lena!"

Spit dribbled from his mouth, his panic a living, breathing parasite embedded in his spine. He searched again. There, in the corner under a pile of threadbare blankets, a slim hand peeked out. His weak legs took him to the mound, and he pulled down the fabric just enough to see her angelic face. Relief brought him to his knees. Safe. Safe, safe, safe!

But then he touched her cheek.

Skin melted from her bones, saturating his fingertips. "No!" Her flesh dripped to the ground, showing bone and veins. She didn't scream or cry out, her chest pumping up and down in the rhythmic way it did while her energy was elsewhere. "Lena!"

Where was her energy?

Arcus.

He had to go there, had to get her energy, bring it back so they could leave. How? How? He had to get her. He had to...

Tarek lifted his hand. Nothing. He needed to think. No time. He rushed to the door, stumbling down the hall. Laughing everywhere. He raised his gun. No one. Just laughing. Ajax...laughing.

He burst through the main door and lifted his hand, shots and fighting all around him. A tear opened to screeches from Andorians and cries of "The Devil!"

And then there was silence, a vacuum of nothing. His portal spat him out at the base of Casimir's castle in the snow and ice.

"Ah!" He palmed his forehead and looked around, his tortured mind wracked with confusion. Squid shook their trees at the line between tropical forest and gray ice, squealing at his intrusion. Wooden movements on the slippery ground stole his balance, and he fell, his knees crashing to the ground.

"Lena!"

He peered at the castle, up the sleek sides of the black stone, to find Casimir staring back at him, curiosity alight in eyes as colorless as Cassondra's. "Where is she?"

The Warden smiled and moved away from the window.

"Where!" Tarek fought to get to his feet, the ice winning the battle. "Lena!"

Finally, there she was, coming from the castle, rocketing to his side.

Relief flopped him on his ass. "You're all right."

No, no, she wasn't.

As Lena's green light bobbed in front of him, clarity struck his brain with cold, stark fear.

Her sad voice drifted into his aching mind. Tarek? What have you done?

Oh, no.

Her light faded, her energy breaking up. Her body was dying–and her energy would transfer to Ajax.

Tarek lifted his hand and opened a portal, back to Andor in seconds–back into the melee, to the guttural cries of "demon" as his portal dropped him. He flicked on his suit to more shocked screams and pounded on the door, yelling until his hoarse voice scraped his throat. When it remained shut, Tarek pulled out his weapon and shot out windows until the door opened. Guns fired at him, but he was faster. One dead, another, and another, so many as he sprinted to where he left Lena's body, shooting at everything moving.

Ajax stood in the center of the now bright room, his hand up, showing the green light in his palm. Lena's light.

Tarek looked to his left. Lena's body, immobile and slumped on the chair, mangled from the rabid animal tearing her apart.

"No!" He blasted the rodent until every head stopped its gnawing on her delicate flesh, her white robes drenched in blood.

He went to her, a plea repeating on his lips. Her chest didn't move, no breathing. Nothing. He took her into his arms, stanching his desire to crumble, to give up. He wouldn't. He'd save her. Ajax wouldn't trap her energy here forever. No.

He heaved Lena's lifeless body over a shoulder and moved toward the door with one last look at the Warden's glowing hand.

Ajax's lips twisted into an ugly smile. "Now she will help my world."

Tarek's portal opened in the first place that came to mind. "Help me!" The warbled plea escaped his mouth, sloppy and incoherent. "Somebody! Please."

Creation Lab drones at comp systems stared at him, genuine shock widening their eyes. He couldn't focus on anyone, his hysteria amplifying the sound of every ticking machine, every sterile smell.

"Help me!" he repeated over and over, his words desperate poison on his tongue.

Help me.

Help me.

Lena's blood oozed from her gashes, hot and soaking through his suit. He held her as if she were an infant, afraid to hurt her lifeless body. Still, people stared, some with horror whitening their cheeks while others talked into their handheld devices.

His knees couldn't hold them both up anymore. He couldn't stand. He couldn't...

"Somebody!" Tears burned his eyes, his voice weak and scratchy. Why won't you help? Gravity pushed him to the ground, Lena falling across his lap, right there in the middle of desks and people and no color. "Somebody, somebody..." He wailed and rocked and rocked and rocked, nuzzling Lena's neck, her skin cold. So, so cold. Everything about her was now frigid, stiff, except for her blood drenching his face.

"Protector," a gentle voice whispered near him, warm breath contrasting with Lena's cooling body. "Please, listen to me. I beg you."

Tarek lifted his gaze from Lena's bite-ridden flesh to find Avery, her sad face determined and strong. "She's dead." Dead. Lena. All her color, gone.

Avery touched his cheek, her fingertips on his skin jolting him. So warm. Alive. He wanted to be cold–cold with Lena. "I can help if you will let me." She waved her hand, and three people in white robes rushed to their spot. She then stood, regal and commanding despite the misery she always wore. "Take this Guide into the closest rebirthing chamber. Now."

Hands reached for Lena, and Tarek released a sob, his gun out and aiming at those scared individuals attempting to touch her. "Back away!"

Nicolette, Avery's Protector, moved in from the shadows, her weapon drawn and pointed at his chest. Good. Kill me. Just kill me.

Avery shook her head in Nicolette's direction and again kneeled at his side, pressing on his arm. "They will help her, Protector. Let her go."

Let her go...

Never.

"Tarek!" Avery's voice hardened when he refused to lower his weapon, but her use of his name surprised him enough to focus on her. "I cannot mend her if you don't allow these gentlemen to take her away."

His gun wavered as tears flowed unchecked. "Can you save her?"

Her eyes shuttered. "I... Yes. I will fix her broken shell, but I need her energy to make her whole."

He lowered his gun as the hole in his heart screamed, expanding with every breath. He felt the emptiness when Roderick had died, when death interrupted their Pairing, but this...

His death would be the only cure. "He has it. It's..." Gone. He couldn't say it. Make it true.

"Who? Who has it, Protector?" Her gaze bore into him, demanding the answer he didn't want to give.

"Ajax." He held Lena closer, burying his hand in her matted, blood-soaked hair.

Her small gasp gave weight to his desolation. After a moment, she touched his cheek again. "This is not over; you can still save her."

"How?"

Avery clamped her mouth shut as she straightened. Not a single word to him escaped her lips, driving him deeper into insanity. She gestured to Lena's body, confronting the nervous trio in front of her. "Come, get her cleaned and readied. I will be with you shortly."

They hesitated, glancing at him with trepidation before again attempting to steal Lena from his arms. This time, he allowed them after he kissed her temple and whispered in her ear, "I'll make this right." Whether that meant leaving this world to die in Andor or obtaining her energy, it didn't matter. He'd be with her in this life or the next.

Once they lifted her body, their touch respectful as they carried her into a rebirthing chamber, Tarek forced himself to his feet, his body lighter without her, empty. "Tell me."

Avery shot a quick glance to Nicolette. "Not here." She turned and flitted from the main hub of the lab to her private office with her Protector beside her.

Tarek had no choice but to follow–with Lena's blood on his hands, his face, his soul.

Once he entered Avery's domain, the door slid shut, and she turned to him, guilt on her pallid face. "I know what Lena found out...about Cassondra's brother."

None of this concerned him. Exemplar could rule the universe with threats and oppression. Lena only mattered. "I don't care. You said you cou–"

"Yes, I did, and that is how you will save her." She went to her screens and punched in coordinates until Andor's capital city glared on each of the six screens. Ajax strolled in the middle of a street, smiling as all the mayhem brewed around him. Avery pointed at the man's face. "He's Exemplian, as well, Protector."

Tarek froze, his anguish giving way to surprise.

Avery bowed her head, her shoulders hanging under whatever invisible weight she carried. "I must confess something."

He stepped forward, his fists clenched as the surprise dissolved. If her information was useful for saving Lena, then he wanted to hear that. Only that. "Save your sins for another time; I just want her back."

Nicolette interrupted, coming in between him and Avery when he took another step. She pulled out her weapon. "You'll listen to her, or this will end. Take one more step, and–"

"You'll kill me?" He grabbed her wrist and pointed her aim to his chin. "You do that, Nicolette. Do it."

The Protector's light eyes narrowed, and she pressed on the trigger, not afraid. The woman was a rock, the reason she had the job of protecting one of the most important overseers in the Synod.

"Enough!" Avery's barking demand instantly pulled Nicolette away, though her gun remained centered on Tarek's chest. Avery then pointed to Tarek. "I want to save Lena as much as you, perhaps even more! She's... I've been helping her, ensuring she has access to the archives rooms."

Now that stunned him enough to shut up and listen. All these years, Lena refused to tell him who helped her, no matter how much he threatened. He never once thought Avery would be her accomplice.

"She came to me years ago with questions I was too afraid to answer, but..." Avery's gaze drifted to the screens. "I knew she was special. She changed me with her passion, her desire for justice."

Silence swept into the room as Avery brushed tears from her cheeks.

Nothing came to mind. He wanted to scream, accuse the woman of creating this mess, but that wasn't true. Lena would have found a way without the overseer.

Avery continued, refusing to look him in the eye. "She came to me just days ago, asking about Casimir." She paused, her voice breaking on the Warden's name. "And I lied to her, told her she was mistaken."

Fury made the room spin. Now he wanted to kill her. Gut her and her Protector where they stood. "If you would've told the truth–"

"It wouldn't have made a difference! You must know her as well as I do. Better. I tried to warn her, make her stop this...this campaign, but she wouldn't listen." Avery braved coming into his personal space, looking up at him. "She never listens."

No, no, she never did, and now her drive and his weakness killed her. He opened his mouth, but then Avery's words clicked. Everything clicked. "Ajax knew who Cassondra was. She orchestrated this. Somehow, she spoke to him, and she sent us there to get Lena killed."

"Oh, I've no doubt you are right, Protector, but there is no way to prove it." She held up a hand as Tarek opened his mouth, ready to scream at her for a problem he couldn't change. "But I will no longer be afraid. Lena is exactly what humanity needs, and I will do everything to ensure her survival." She raised her chin. "After this, I will go to the elders myself. This type of travesty will never happen again."

"How?" He held her shoulders and shifted her to the screens, where Andorians lay bloodied on old streets. "How will you convince the elders after so many have failed?"

Her back stiffened. "I will do what I have to." She moved from his hold to stand by Nicolette. "Cassondra is not the only one capable of manipulation."

So Lena's death would end the wrong she so desperately wanted to rectify. Everything would return as it was. Cassondra's brother wouldn't have the chance to evolve his world with innocent souls, and neither would Ajax. Poetic. Perfect–as long as he could save her.

He wiped sweat from his brow, smearing more blood across his knuckles. "What can I do? Tell me, and I'll do it."

"Would you die for her?"

"Yes." Without hesitation.

She pointed at Ajax's cocky smile as his people revered him, caressing his gloved hands as he walked past. "Would you become Warden for her, as well?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you must prepare yourself to kill Ajax."

He stumbled backward as if she slapped him. "You're insane. How do you propose I kill a man who is damn near immortal?"

"Have you not listened to me? He isn't immortal, Protector. Far, far from it." Fire leaped into Avery's gaze. "By killing Andor's Warden, Ajax inherited her power, giving him the world, just as Casimir killed Arcus's Warden so many centuries ago."

"How do I not know this? How does the entire population not know this?"

Nicolette answered, her anger pouring out with every syllable. "Because every Heterodox Protector, as well as disgruntled Synod Protectors, would seek out Wardens. Kill them to rule a world of their own. It would be more chaos than we already have."

He watched Ajax puff up under all the admiration his desperate, starving people gave him as Nicolette's words sank in. Would he willingly become Warden of these people? Yes, for Lena, he'd do anything. "How do I go about it?"

Avery came to his side. "You are brave, Protector. So very brave."

No, he was weak, allowing Ajax to touch him. But he'd make this right. Or die trying. He turned to Avery. "Just tell me how to get her back."

"You will need a strong Guide, and a resolve to kill Ajax. That simple. Make sure the Warden understands you know his truth. And make sure you are certain. Show him you are not afraid to take his place."

Tarek was already on his way out the door. "Done. Now where do I find a willing Guide?"

Tarek followed Nicolette down the dormitory wing in the Creation Lab, her footsteps quiet against the spongy floor. He didn't bother to change, even when Nicolette insisted, not wanting to waste any more time. His suit worked, all he needed. But when she offered him access to her weapons cache, he took the few moments to raid her stash, arming himself with as much firepower as he could carry.

Finally, she stopped at a door in the middle of the never-ending corridor and pulled Avery's override key from her belt, swiping it across the access panel. As soon as the door opened, he swooped in.

The Guide, Christoph, waited for them, already notified by Avery. Sleep still filled his eyes and his wrinkled robes suggested he hadn't bothered to change, but he was calm. "Greetings, Protectors."

Tarek went to him, wanting to fall at his feet, thank him. "What you're doing... I can never repay you."

Christoph stood, his dark face glowing with passion. "I will do anything I can to stop the devastation Cassondra has perpetuated over the past thirty years. And I am honored to aid such a brave Guide as Lena Mi."

Who were these people? Avery, Nicolette, this Guide? All of them went against Exemplian norm, an underground horde of people who were still human. Lena knew. All this time, she knew individuals like them existed here–and she never told him.

Nicolette went to the door. "You can open a portal in the room. They don't bother expending resources on blocking this wing." She gave the Guide an admiring smile. "Thank you, Christoph." She then faced him. "We'll be watching, Tarek. If you fail..."

"I'll give the signal."

"Right. Okay, then. Good luck." She left before he could say another word.

Tarek turned to Christoph. "This may be impossible." An understated way to tell him death was a probable outcome.

"I've survived impossible odds before, young man." He held up his hands. "I've lived four lives here, after all."

Respect swelled inside of him. This Guide had more courage than most Protectors he knew. "I wish I would've known people like you existed." He sighed. "I wish Lena would've told me."

"Well, from having the privilege of knowing her for the better part of ten years, I assure you that she protects you as much as you protect her."

Tarek raised his free hand in the air, moving his other to hook under Christoph's arm. As the tear ripped open, he said, "Maybe one day she'll explain exactly what she protects me from."

His portal brought them into the same burned-out building where he and Lena first landed. The man he had killed still lay in the rubble, his blood spattered against the cement blocks he fell on. The one person he protected Lena from in this world–the only person. Tarek forced his gaze away, keeping his grief locked tight. Now was the time to save her, not mourn her.

"Where do we go from here, Protector?"

Tarek peered at Christoph, the man as calm as bathwater. "The satellite feed showed him in the streets, but..." He looked toward the broken window when yelling and shouted commands drew closer. "Ajax knows we're here."

"Well, then. I suppose I should keep myself hidden." Christoph moved behind Tarek, bringing himself as close to the humming suit as possible. Even with the noise coming closer, the Guide remained stalwart. No shaking, no panic, nothing. "Won't do any good if I died, would it?"

Tarek unholstered his weapon. "You're an anomaly, Guide."

As soon as the words left his mouth, shots fired into the building. In seconds, Andorians littered the space, leaking in from cracks and nooks like insects. Tarek met the bastards shot for shot while keeping Christoph protected with his body. Bullets bounced off his suit, the force of them barely registering. Bodies fell as Tarek moved backward, the Guide right behind him until they were flush with the rusted vehicle. Some Andorians smiled, Tarek's cornered position giving them confidence.

Their mistake.

Tarek dropped his gun and pulled one of the weapons he had taken from Nicolette out of its holster. Without missing a beat, he engaged the flamethrower as big as his palm, sending waves of fire, charring bodies instantly. Human ash covered every surface, coating his skin, but men kept coming in, sacrificing themselves. Burning flesh stung Tarek's nose, making his eyes water, as he continued to send flames into the crowd of dirty, unkempt men. The fire ate body after body while Tarek scanned the area, waiting for Ajax to bring his cowardly ass into the building.

Only after the floor was thick with incinerated death did the Warden show his face, arrogant with confidence. Ajax didn't even flinch while viewing the carnage, his people's energies billowing from their remains to slam into his chest. Shrieks from terrified Andorians blew into the building with the stale breeze, the pleas of "Kill the demon!" and "The Devil has risen" loud and desperate.

Tarek flicked the weapon onto cooling mode and doused the area with a few more shots until the fire died down, the chanting a nauseating background. He ignored it and dropped the flamethrower, pulling out yet another firearm, aiming it at Ajax's forehead. No advanced weapon with soul-stealing bullets this time. Tarek held an antique gun with lead bullets; one Nicolette had hanging on her wall for display. He didn't need anything else. "Give her to me."

Ajax crossed his arms, his chuckle scratching Tarek's brain. "And if I don't?"

Tarek centered his target between Ajax's eyes. "Then your people will witness what a demon can really do."

The chuckle turned into a guffaw. "You can't kill me! Have you not been paying attention? I'm a Warden, you daft bastard."

Tarek sneered, his finger desperately wanting to pull the trigger. "No. You're an Exemplian."

Christoph shuddered, moving in closer as soon as Tarek revealed the largest bomb in his arsenal. The Guide gave his first genuine show of nerves. Truth had that kind of power.

Ajax's laughing stopped, his throat working with swallow after swallow. "Aren't you a clever one?"

"Release her. Now." Tarek's aim was steady, his resolve absolute.

He'd kill him. If the man refused him, he'd put a bullet in his head. Avery had Nicolette waiting to collect Christoph–with Lena's energy if Tarek became the Warden. Her satellite feed directed to the Warden's building, watching everything. Whatever happened, Lena would leave this place.

Ajax tilted his head, recovering with expertise. "Would you really kill me, Protector?" He waved a flippant hand around the death and embers, then to the screaming and desperate people. "This world will eat away any humanity you have left."

Sweat dripped from Tarek's scalp, mingling with Lena's blood he had refused to wash off. "What's left of my humanity you have." He cocked the gun. "I won't ask again."

Ajax's eyes widened. "This show for one simple Guide? A troublemaker, at that?"

"Yes."

Ajax took a step closer, pulling off his gloves.

Not this time. Not ever again. "I'll shoot you before you have the chance to lift a finger."

The Warden stopped, respect lighting his eyes. He studied Tarek for a few moments longer, and said, "Perhaps I should have chosen my Exemplian cohorts wiser. Well played, Protector." He shrugged. "You can have the girl. I've no wish to keep her."

Just like that.

Thankfully, just like that.

"But let me assure you." Ajax gave a knowing smile. "You haven't saved her. You've only prolonged the inevitable. She has angered the wrong people."

A shiver traced Tarek's spine, but he shook it off, never dropping his gun. The Warden's omen wouldn't get inside him.

Christoph moved from behind Tarek, only to sit in the muck of the dead. He had no other options. "Shall I collect her, then?"

"Oh, please do, Guide." Ajax's ugly chortle filled the room as he moved toward Christoph and held up his hand, his palm glowing green. "She is too difficult to hold onto, anyway. Bothersome woman."

Tarek's resolve almost disappeared with the desire to go to the man's palm. But all he moved was his target to the back of the Warden's head. As flip as Ajax acted, he wanted to die no more than Tarek wanted to be Warden.

Christoph had no issues with separating his energy from his body. His golden light bounced in front of Ajax, who released Lena's energy without so much as a blink. As soon as her light collided with Christoph's, the melded energies slipped into the Guide's open mouth. Christoph would hold her inside and keep her safe until they reached the Creation Lab.

In less than a second, Christoph awoke and Tarek went to his side, careful not to show his relief, his gun still pointed at Ajax. He then held his free hand to the Guide, who unceremoniously accepted it.

Ajax tipped his head. "I wish I could say it's been a pleasure."

Tarek had nothing else to say to the man, letting the portal pull them through.

They landed in the same place he brought Lena's body–in the middle of the Creation Lab's communal office. Only this time drones didn't watch him with stunned expressions. They dashed into action, anticipating his return.

Some whisked Christoph away, leading him to the same rebirthing room where Lena's body now healed. He had no idea how they'd fix her, make her whole, but he had faith in Avery. She'd been bringing Exemplians back for centuries.

His muscles no longer fueled with adrenaline, Tarek sagged to the floor, not giving a damn that his filth sullied the white desk he leaned against. He covered his face, trying to hold it all in, not break again. The effort proved impossible.

He sobbed, expelling all his fear. She was safe now. Avery would repair her, and she'd come back to him. He'd mend her heart, fill the void rebirthing caused, and beg her forgiveness.

He'd give her everything.

"Protector."

A whispery touch reached past the fog, and he uncovered his face.

Avery sat beside him, a serene smile on her lips. "I will take care of her now, I promise you."

He laughed then because crying would no longer do. To her surprised yelp, Tarek pulled Avery into his filthy arms and held her tight. "Thank you, Avery."

She sniffled against his chest, right there in front of all her underlings, letting him hug her. "She's special, unique. We all need her."

Yes, yes, they did.

They sat there, him stroking her hair as Nicolette focused on her Guide, pride gleaming in her eyes.

Finally, Avery said, "If she chooses to work for the ERP again, we will need you to extend your Pairing into her next life. You must–"

"No." He kept his arms around her when she tried to move away. Lena would choose to come back, he knew her, but she wouldn't be coming back to him. He wasn't strong enough. "I won't be her Protector again."

"If not, then who? She needs someone strong, someone who can keep her safe."

"I know." He smiled and released her so that he could look her in the eyes. "Maybe you can help me."

When he told her his plan, she beamed. "I can most definitely arrange that, but be prepared to beg."

Tarek closed his eyes and again slouched against the desk, his relief a heady drug. "I'm not afraid of a little groveling."

Tarek fidgeted, his leg bouncing like mad. This wasn't where he wanted to be, sitting in Mateusz's office. He wanted to be with Lena, show her everything he'd accomplished in the last month while Avery healed her. Unfortunately, the overseer said one more day.

He could handle one more day–as long as he had forever afterward.

Mateusz sat at his desk, waiting with him. They hadn't spoken much in the last thirty days–only long enough for Tarek to punch him in the eye for agreeing to send Lena and him to Andor. No matter what the man said, he was the damn ERP overseer. He could've done something. Anything. He didn't. Thankfully, Avery had more courage.

"So..." Mateusz fussed with his glasses, pulling them off, cleaning them, and slipping them back on. "If you would allow me to explain."

Tarek turned his attention to the screens on the wall, always tuned on ERP's training centers. "I don't want to hear anything. Not a damn thing outside of 'I'm sorry.'"

"Well, then I'm sorry. I am. If I had a choice, I'd have done things differently."

"You're a Synod overseer!" Tarek leaped from his chair, no longer able to fake indifference, and pounded his fist on the desk, causing Kendal's hologram to flicker. "So many people are dependent on the choices you make. Doing nothing makes you as guilty as giving the assignment."

"When will you understand? When will it sink into your stubborn mind? I don't have a choice!" Mateusz stood too, his anger as bright as Tarek's. "I'm responsible for training the drones who do the bidding of Cassondra, the elders, the authority commander... I could give you a list longer than this desk."

"Don't you care about the drones you train?" Tarek stepped forward, his fist curling with the desire to punch Mateusz again. "I almost lost everything. If Avery wouldn't have helped, if she had cowered behind a desk like you–"

"You don't think I know how you feel? I do! I've lost someone I love, just like you." He pointed to Tarek's face, his voice cracking. "And I pray you do not have the same outcome with Lena as I've had with Kendal. So don't stand there and assume what I can and cannot do. I've suffered because of those bastards, too. Kendal still suffers."

Shit.

His anger deflated. Tarek scrubbed at his hair, glanced around, and then sat, gesturing for Mateusz to do the same. The overseer complied, looking as lost as Tarek had been for a month.

Tarek gestured to Kendal's picture. "How is she?"

"The same." Mateusz pushed his glasses up with a shaking hand.

"What did she know, Mateusz?" A question he'd asked the man a thousand times, his friend always declining to answer. He had tried to ask Kendal, as well, but she refused to speak to him, refused to speak to anyone but Mateusz and Winston, it seemed. "What did she carry with her after death?"

Mateusz licked his lips, keeping his attention on Kendal's hologram. "Too much."

Tarek watched the hologram with him. "Lena knows too much also," he whispered like a confession.

"I know." Mateusz sighed. "And I would suggest you both keep it to yourselves. The elders catch wind..." He focused on Tarek, his gaze hard and serious. "You understand me, don't you? I will not be able to save you. No one will."

"You know about Wardens?" He didn't intend to spread the truth, Mateusz's warning unnecessary. Nicolette was right; to give away that information would only cause more damage.

"All those in higher Synod positions know."

Tarek squeezed the bridge of his nose. Exemplar's entire foundation sat on a mound of lies. "How many other Wardens are Exemplians?"

Mateusz returned his attention to Kendal's hologram. "I don't really know. We are privy to knowledge, but only so much."

"You could have told me sooner."

"Perhaps I would have if you had asked me once you came back from Andor–before you left, even." Mateusz slid a finger beneath his eye. "Instead of hitting me without listening to a word and then avoiding me."

"I suppose it's my turn to apologize." Tarek's leg bounced again. "And I've been busy."

"I've noticed." Mateusz folded his hands on the desk, moving on to business. "So, you're satisfied coming back to the ERP as a mentor again?"

"Yes, more than satisfied."

"Good." Mateusz punched a few keys on his comp system and squinted at the monitor. "Looks as though students are benefiting. They all seem to have nothing but glowing respect for you." Mateusz rubbed the back of his neck. "Your exploits in Andor have made you something of a hero."

"Yes, well, young minds are easily manipulated, aren't they?"

"That they are."

None of those students knew how he had managed to save a Guide from a Warden, and of course he didn't tell them. Stories circulated, but none came remotely close to actual events. Why not add to the fables those innocent minds believed as truth?

A tinny voice coming from the intercom filled the room. "Your next appointment has arrived."

"Send her in." A slight grin curved Mateusz's lips. "Are you certain of this, my friend?"

Tarek laced his fingers across his stomach, confident and never more positive of anything in both his lives. "Absolutely."

"All right, then." The door swung open. "Prepare yourself."

Tarek smiled and shifted his attention to the entrance.

"Well if it isn't the dumbass himself." Wilma swooped in as bedraggled as ever and flopped into the seat beside him. "What the hell are you doing here? Don't you think you've harassed me enough?"

Tarek wanted to hug her. Kneel at her feet and worship her. "I had to come, had to thank you in person."

She snorted, waving legs too short to reach the ground. "You did enough of that, begging me and shit." She jabbed a finger at his forehead. "Where'd you lose your self-respect, boy?"

Yes, he did plead with her after Avery gave him Wilma's contact information. He told the stronger Protector everything, the secrets Mateusz had just warned him not to tell, Lena's life story, who she was, the way she lived–and loved.

Somehow, he had convinced her to take the responsibility. Maybe it was because both women came from the same place, both original Heterodox citizens. Maybe it had something to do with Lena's insatiable need to right all wrongs, protect innocent life. Whatever convinced Wilma, he was thankful for it.

"I..." He gave in and hugged her. "Thank you."

Miraculously, she allowed him to hold her, for about ten seconds. "Get the hell off me! I didn't come here to be groped by a giant dumbass." No anger laced her words as she easily shoved him off. If he didn't know better, he'd have sworn compassion filled her words.

Tarek sat back, smiling so wide his cheeks ached. This woman was exactly who Lena needed–who he needed, too.

"All right. Now..." Wilma smoothed back her hair and pinned an amused Mateusz with her blue glare. "The girl awake yet?"

"Yes, though not ready for release until tomorrow." He hesitated, his admiration for Wilma blatant on his face. "And we're honored to have you back with us, Protector. I can't tell you how excited the elders were to–"

Wilma waved off whatever compliments Mateusz had wanted to give. "Yeah, yeah. Save it. Is she planning to stay with the ERP?"

Mateusz hid a laugh behind a cough. "Yes, thankfully. She's become one of our strongest Guides."

Tarek's heart skipped as the two spoke. He knew she was awake, logic and all that. But knowing Lena was alive, whole... The knowledge made breathing worth the effort.

"Strongest and the biggest pain in the ass from what I hear." She nudged Tarek's elbow. "Ain't that what you told me, boy?"

"Ah..." Well, not in those words, no.

"Yeah, that's what you said. No need to sugarcoat shit. It all smells the same underneath." Wilma crossed her arms over her ample chest and again focused on Mateusz. "Has she agreed to the Pairing?"

Mateusz shifted in his seat, giving Tarek a sidelong glance. "She has been informed of the change, but..."

Tarek stood. "I'll convince her." He'd spent the entire month working on that one issue.

Wilma rolled her eyes. "Well, don't you think I should talk to her, too?"

Even though she'd hate it, Tarek bent to kiss the woman on her pudgy cheek. "You definitely should." He then went to the door before she had the chance to punch him in the mouth. "Midday tomorrow. Meet us at Shalen." He gave her the exact coordinates. "Farren will be there to keep you company until we arrive."

"What?" She swiped at the cheek he had kissed. "Why the hell do I have to go to the middle of nowhere to talk to her?"

Tarek opened the door. "You'll see."

Her door looked the same, as did the white walls and the floor authority scrutinizing anyone passing by.

Everything was the same.

But so completely different.

Avery had taken one month to repair Lena and bring her back–longer than usual for a rebirth. That animal ruined her body. Avery had said as much when he demanded to know why so long after the first week. The overseer needed more time to repair the damage, and he could do nothing but accept it.

So he waited.

Thirty days without her, and it almost killed him. He rubbed his chest, the ache of their severed Pairing still a constant throb. But he made the right choice. Hopefully, she would see that. If she allowed him, he would give her everything he had ever promised. Be there for her while she battled the melancholy that came with living again. Get on his knees and beg for forgiveness.

All he had to do was open the door.

He smoothed back his hair, now longer. Straightened his shirt, tucked the edges into his breeches. Open the door! Another glance down the hall. Open it.

"Right." He lifted his hand to the access panel.

When the door opened, he had to clutch its frame. Avery sat next to Lena, holding her as she stared at nothing. So broken. His beautiful color broken and hurting because he couldn't protect her.

"I..." For the first time, he had no idea what to say. So many things to tell her, but all of it stayed on the back of his tongue.

Avery whispered in her ear while he gaped, and after Lena gave a slight nod, still focused on the wall in front of her, the overseer stood, coming to him. "May I speak to you a moment?"

No, absolutely not. He shook his head, his gaze never leaving Lena's pale face.

"Please, Protector." She touched his arm. "It will only take a moment."

He tore his attention from the person who meant everything. He owed Avery so much, and the least he could do was listen to her. "One minute." He slipped into the hall, Avery close behind him.

"Thank you," she said, her voice low and emotional. "I won't keep you long."

He turned to her. "I should be thanking you. Whatever you did, whatever you said to the elders and Cassondra... How, Avery? How did you do it?"

She made good on her word. Tarek had no idea how she'd managed it, but the elders banned any more Exemplian involvement in Andor. She had also ensured Cassondra would let the matter of her brother and Exemplian Wardens drop–as long as Tarek and Lena did the same.

Avery glanced down the hallway, biting her bottom lip. "The less you know, the better, Protector."

He'd accept that. Hell, did it really matter anyway? Lena was alive, that was more than enough. "Whatever you did, I'm eternally grateful."

"As I've told you, we all need her." She faced him. "I've taken the liberty of giving her satellite access, my housewarming gift to you both."

"You haven't told her, have you? About–"

"No." Avery smiled. "That is your gift to give, not mine."

A gift he damn sure wanted Lena to accept. "Again, thank you." He leaned in to kiss her cheek, and said, "No disrespect, but I'm through with talking."

Avery laughed, her depression seemingly lifted. Tarek wasn't surprised. Lena had that effect on everyone. "Well, do not let me detain you any longer." She headed for the lift, and said over her shoulder, "Good luck, Protector."

He'd need it. Deep breath.

This time, he didn't stop at the doorway, tamping down his fear of rejection. She could reject him all she wanted, but he'd never leave her to suffer alone.

Tarek sat next to her and covered the hands she had folded on her lap, saying nothing.

As if she held her breath until his touch, her thin body now heaved as tears fell. She came to life, folding her body into his side, soaking his shirt with her misery.

He held her close, his hands roaming her quaking body. "It's all right. Shhh, everything will be all right." Warm. Alive.

"Why did you give me up, Tarek?" Her fist curled into his shirt, bunching the fabric. "Why did you sever our Pairing? I can't live here without you. I can't."

His arms tightened around her. "No. No. I did it so we could be together. So you would always be safe. Please. Wilma's the strongest... She'll give you what I couldn't."

She shook her head against his chest, and he couldn't help but revel in the feel of her movement, even in her sadness. Alive! "We were set up. We–" She stopped, her body going still. "How many people has she done this to already?"

"I don't know, love." Not that she expected an answer, but he needed to give her one. Speak to her and hear her speak to him.

They remained silent for a few moments as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. Finally, she said, "It hurts." She palmed her chest, over her heart. "Everything hurts so much."

"It will pass. I promise you." He was powerless to do anything other than be there–and he would do that for all of his lives if she let him.

Her tears still drenched his shirt and skin, burning him. "Where do we go from here?"

For this, he had the answer. He stood, bringing her with him. "I'll show you."

Alarm filled her eyes, and she tried to tug free of his hold. "I don't want to leave." She tugged again to no avail. "I... I don't want to leave my room."

He brought her close and bent until their gazes met, her sherry eyes his home. "Will you ever be able to trust me again?"

Shock filtered through her growing terror. "I'll always trust you. Always."

"Even after...?" He swallowed, no able to say it, put her death into words.

"It wasn't your fault."

He hugged her then, wanting to shield her from the memory. "I love you, Lena. I love you so much."

A sob escaped her lips. "I love you, too. More than anything."

"Then come with me."

She didn't answer right away, her body stiff.

"Lena?"

She breathed in deep as she pulled away. "Wherever you are is where I'll be, right?"

Repeating the promise that he had made her almost had him falling to her feet. He didn't deserve her forgiveness, but he'd damn sure take it. "Exactly." He held out his hand, and she grasped it, her palm sweating.

They didn't speak as they took the lift to the lower hanger. But he never took his gaze from her. She looked the same, only a few years younger. Her chin trembled even as she held it high, her heartache never getting in the way of her courage. The lift stopped, and she glanced up at him when the doors opened. "Shalen?"

He brought their joined hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles as he led her to his shuttle, not answering.

A smile hinted on her lips but then disappeared at the sight of Winston. The authority captain tipped his head in her direction, a knowing look in his eyes. When he slipped into the vacant lift, Lena said, "He knows something."

Kendal's image flashed in his mind. Whatever information kept her in a depression, Winston knew.

Tarek opened the passenger door for Lena, dread blackening the budding excitement. "Leave it alone, Lena. Please leave it alone."

"Never." She glided into the shuttle without another word.

He got in and started the engine, not wanting to argue with her, not today. But this conversation wasn't over. So many things she had never told him, things he would make her explain when her mind healed.

After he drove through Cynosure's commotion, he set a course for Shalen. With heavy traffic behind them, he dimmed the windshield and all the windows after switching to autopilot.

"What are you doing?" She shifted to meet his gaze.

He smiled, reaching for her hand. "You'll know soon."

Once they landed, he unbuckled his harness and leaned in to kiss her, savoring her heat. He moaned when she responded, her lips as eager as his. After he reluctantly lifted his mouth, he said, "Wait here."

"Tar–"

He jumped out, slamming the door before giving in and never leaving the shuttle. He met up with Farren and Wilma, who stood at the front door of the cabin near Nan's stone. Lena's cabin. "Is everything ready?"

"Yeah, brother, you're good to go." Farren crossed his arms over his chest with a grin. "You sure she's going to want to live all the way out here? I mean, this is out here."

"I'm sure." Tarek grinned and clapped him on the back. "Thank you."

Farren laughed. "Don't thank me. I only handed you the nails. When did you become master shack builder?"

Tarek pulled away to take in his handy work. Not bad. The walls were sturdy, no leaks or cracks. A cottage he replicated from the little houses he remembered during a long-ago trip to Empyrean. They would have to check in with Mateusz every night, ensure they were in their home and not going against curfew, but this house would give an illusion of privacy at least. "I guess I'm a natural."

"Yeah, sure." Farren headed to his shuttle. "I'm leaving. Don't want to intrude on the big reveal. Oh!" He stopped when he reached his shuttle. "Avery had some of her people out here, messing with the screens. They said you knew?"

I've taken the liberty of giving her satellite access, my housewarming gift to you both...

He didn't know how to feel about that. "Yes, thanks again."

"Anytime, brother." Farren gave a half salute and took off, zipping out of there before Tarek turned to Wilma.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw, now smooth after shaving this morning for the first time in a month. "So..."

Wilma gave him a bored glare. "So?" She gestured at the cabin. "This what you wanted me to see? Don't think I'm coming out here to live with you. I'm no damn barbarian."

He hugged her as he did yesterday, and a surprised gasp left her mouth. "What you're doing... You won't regret it."

She patted his back for all of a millisecond before heaving him off her–again. "Dammit, boy! No need for all the dramatics." She pushed past him on her way to his shuttle. "I only came here to see her, and I'll tell you what, if she pulls any shit, I'll knock her on her ass."

Tarek followed, laughing. "I'm counting on it."

Wilma opened the passenger door without touching the metal. Only a simple flick of her wrist and objects did exactly what she wanted. She then pointed at Lena. "You got thirty days to get your head right, and then you and I are gonna be buddies for a few hundred years. That good with you?"

Lena's eyes went wide, her rebirth no match for her Wilma-admiration. "I... Y-yes?"

"Again with the stuttering. Stop it." Wilma blocked Lena's sight of the cabin when she tried to tilt her head toward him. "Oh, no. Don't look at him. This is between you and me."

"O-okay."

Wilma palmed her forehead. "Really? Is it a medical issue?" She shook her head. "Just get one thing straight: I'm not indulgent like that big, blond bastard. I won't tolerate any of your shenanigans, got it?"

Lena nodded with her mouth open and color blooming on her face. Her color... Who wouldn't be affected by Wilma? The woman's beacon was almost as bright as Lena's.

"Good. Now," she said, smoothing back her unruly curls. "You're brave. I like that. But you're impulsive. That I don't like. With me, you'll either mature or I'll make your life miserable." She held her hand in the air, and a hole opened. Who knew which world she was going to, and she probably wouldn't share anyway. "You can do good things without being a dumbass, you hear? One month." Then she was gone.

Tarek went to Lena as soon as Wilma's portal closed. "She's the best Protector for you."

"Are you sure this will work? With her and I?"

"Her being your Protector is one of only two things I am sure about."

"What's the other?"

He held out his hand, and when she grasped it, he said, "You."

Even more of her color returned, and she gave him her first genuine smile as she stood. "You always say the right things."

"You think so?" Tarek grinned and brushed a thumb across her bottom lip. "I hope I build the right things, too." He trembled as he moved to give her a clear view of the cabin. "For you, love."

Her gaze fell on their home's shuttered windows and thatched roof, and she covered her mouth with a soft cry.

"Do you like it?"

If she didn't, no matter. He'd tear it down and rebuild until she did.

"It's not done yet. I have to finish the fireplace." His sweating intensified. "You'll need to collect more stones. I made you a bookshelf and desk." He guided her inside, the smell of recently cut wood and new furniture hitting them in the face.

She remained silent, her eyes wide as she took everything in.

"I...ah...put all your books there." He pointed to the shelves–and continued to vomit words. "We don't have a hydrator, but I'll hunt, maybe plant a garden. We have power, though, the fridge and bathroom in working order. I...I've been researching other worlds, learning. We can live off this land easily enough, no need for much technology."

Say something!

"And Avery... She had people come fidget with the screens." He shifted her attention to a wall of six screens, all of them off. "She gave you full satellite access. Illegal, but I assume she–"

"You did all this? While I...?"

He stopped talking and looked down at her. Tears glimmered in her sherry eyes, turning them into the jewels they always were. No, death couldn't take her color away. "I promised you, Lena."

She studied their cabin again while he waited silently. She went to the bookshelf and slid her hands across the books' spines. Moved to the desk, her fingertips tracing the rough wood he had yet to sand. Glided to the unfinished fireplace made of her collection, the rocks a bright, vibrant splash.

Finally, she came back to him and pressed a hand to his heart. "So this is real? This is ours?"

He lowered, never taking his gaze off hers, and brushed his lips against the side of her mouth. "We don't have to pretend anymore."

A smile curved her lips. "You were wrong, Tarek."

He pulled back a little. "About what?"

She kissed him, then whispered, "You are invincible."

Read on for Chapter 1 of Tainted Energy,

Book 1 of the Energy Series.

Lena

Nothing annoyed me more than crappy best friends. The type who did stupid stuff, like grab my shoulder and scream right in my ear, "Help me, Barbara!"

I jumped and a cloud of popcorn exploded above us. The kernels remaining in the tub I threw in Zander's face.

We sat in the back row, Night of the Living Dead on the screen. No emergency exit signs interrupted the darkness, adding a little more to the scare department. But Zander killed the mood as soon as the graveyard scene popped up.

"You promised to watch, now watch." I chucked the popcorn tub at him when he wouldn't stop laughing.

"Fine, but my hands are stayin' in my pockets this time." He rubbed the tiny crescent-shaped marks on his left hand. "I have no idea why you watch these things. You can't sit through one without a week of nightmares."

"Not true. The Ring was just extra freaky."

"Ah, and so were The Shining and Paranormal Activity..." His southern accent rolled off his tongue like sap from a maple tree. "I think you like bein' afraid all the time."

I hated it when he was right. "Shut up."

Fear triggered the fight-or-flight mechanism in our brains. The signal that proved we still wanted to live. That was my theory, anyway.

Maybe I was a masochist, but I did like experiencing the fear. It ensured the numbness hadn't completely taken over. Numb could be good. A takeover, though...not so good. Zander shoved that logic in my face and smeared my nose in it every time I decided to make sure fight or flight still worked.

"All right, but when you're lyin' in that floating bed tonight, don't expect dream guy to save you."

"Don't worry." I slumped in my chair, focusing on the screen. During a weak moment, and after a couple stolen beers from Dad's case, I told Zander about Him–my dream guy with gray eyes and dimples. He acted odd afterward, especially when I admitted what Him always promised: I'll find you.

Yeah, Him was what I called my imaginary guy. No one ever accused me of being creative. Point was, for the last month Zander decided to make a joke of it. I'd never told anybody about my dreams, and I guess I should've kept it that way.

Hey, self, remind me again why Zander held the bestie slot? Oh, right. He was the only one who applied for the position.

The next hour we watched in silence. I'd seen this movie at least ten times already, and so his concern of me mauling him never happened.

About the time Barbara annoyed everyone in the house with her relentless Where's Johnny question, Zander's constant slurping and ice-crunching crawled under my skin. "It's empty."

He took one last noisy sip and stood, blocking my view. "I'm gonna get a refill. You want one?"

"No. Christ!" I bent and twisted to see around him while he countered every move with a grin. I didn't want to admit it, but that grin always caused my brain to cloud. Hell, having him within a ten-foot radius caused a huge case of head fuzz. But to be clear, I wasn't the only mountain dweller who found that smile, or that accent, hot.

"Suit yourself. Be back in a sec." He gathered up some empty wrappers and went out the door, creating a quick flash of light in the room.

Once he left, it didn't take long for the dark to fold me into its arms as the moans on the screen grew louder. When a particularly menacing zombie ate Barbara, I let out a tiny yelp–even though I knew it was going to happen. My face heated, and I looked around, happy no one witnessed.

I'll go with coward for $500, Alex.

Sinking deeper into my seat, I watched the whole house get taken over by zombies, my heart pounding and the hairs on my arms standing at attention. Two minutes alone and I was already freaked out.

I gripped the armrests, stealing a glance at the exit. My nails dug into the plastic. Leaving was the obvious remedy, but my legs refused to walk toward the door.

A zombie eating black and white brains filled the screen.

Screw this.

I was out of there whether my legs were ready or not. Yes! Fight or flight still in perfect working order.

Zander was right. I had issues.

I planted my feet on the cement floor and tensed to run. As I hopped up, my arms refused to come with me. I made the mistake of looking down.

What the...?

The armrests curled around my hands, the plastic ends separating into thin, spider-like fingers. I screamed, trying to yank my hands away, but the armrests became stronger, forming rows of fingers that encased the whole length of my arms, burning them. Tears flooded my vision, the pain branding my skin.

Panic turned into terror when the theater filled with whispers that brushed through my hair like wind and hit me in the face like an open palm. The whispering slipped into my throat when I opened my mouth, gagging me while it pushed me back into the seat. I struggled as the chair sucked me in and gasped for enough air to yell, the sound coming out as a grunt.

My head stayed glued against the seat, my scalp searing as I tried to yank it free. Then the movie stopped playing. Total darkness swallowed me, the blackness stealing the last drops of my courage. No matter how hard I tugged, my arms refused to pull free. I strained to turn my head toward the exit, but it stayed nailed to the chair. All I could do was look forward and try to relax my arms to stop the burning.

The whispers grew quieter, and the hold it had on my head weakened when I stopped moving. I cleared my throat. "Zander!"

My arms loosened a fraction.

"Help me!"

The hold slackened even more, and my head snapped forward.

"Let me go!"

I didn't know who or what I was talking to, but I managed to pull my right arm free. After a deep breath, I hollered for Zander so loud, my voice cracked.

My left arm pulled out of the chair.

I sprinted to the door as it burst open. Jake, my boss, ran to me, and I fell in his arms, tears pouring down my face.

When my knees gave out, he carried me from the room. "Lena? What happened?"

I tried to find a coherent way to tell him, but words started vomiting from my mouth. "The seat... whispers..." I glanced at my arms, red and already starting to bruise, "my arms...the movie."

Zander came up behind us. "What's going on?" Worry flooded his brown eyes as he threw his soda into the nearest garbage can.

I gripped my boss' shirt, ignoring Zander. "The screen, Jake, check the screen."

Jake put me down and opened the door. Zander wrapped an arm around my waist and followed him. We all caught the tail end when the dumb cops shot the hero.

"I don't understand." I stumbled away from the door. "That wasn't on. It wasn't there! The movie stopped." I held out my bruised arms. "I couldn't move. The chair, it came to life. I-It had fingers."

Chaos swarmed inside my head. The worried looks they gave me proved all that crazy showed on my face. Neither one of them said anything for a minute. Jake patted my shoulder, while Zander rubbed the small of my back. The image would've been funny under different circumstances.

Zander interrupted the awkward pat-rub fest. "I shouldn't have left you alone in there, but you've seen it a hundred times..."

Jake piped in–and yelled. Something he tended to do when scared. "That's it! No more movies that scare the shit out of you."

"It wasn't the movie. Something happened in there." I shoved my arms in their faces. "Does it look like I'm making it up?"

"What'd you do?" Zander held my arms for a closer inspection.

"I didn't do it. The chair tried to suck me in."

Zander's fingers stopped mid-inspection. His eyes hardened and his shoulders tensed. In seconds, he relaxed and continued his examination.

Strange.

He rubbed an ugly red mark on my left arm. "You need to go home, get some rest. Jake's right. No more scary movies."

"Get some rest?" My attention jumped between the two. "I'm not making it up." I pulled my arm away from Zander and focused on reasoning with Jake. "Whatever happened in there wasn't just in my head." I held out my arms one more time. "Look!"

Jake's face softened with pity, but he did check the bruises purpling my arms. "With the move...track season coming up...your dad..." He tilted my chin. "You know I won't let him hurt you."

"This isn't about my goddamn dad, Jake." Yelling wasn't working, so I switched to quiet anger.

His answer was to swing open the door again and flick on the lights. Credits rolled on the screen, and the only evidence of Zander and me were the empty popcorn tub and my spilled soda cup under the last row of seats. The chair appeared as innocent as it did when we first sat down. Nothing crazy. Nothing supernatural. Everything appeared normal.

I backed out of the entryway, holding my hands up as if to fend off an angry dog. "I'm going crazy."

"Let me take you home," Zander said, coming closer with every word.

Jake looked at his watch. "Yeah, good idea. It's closing time, anyway." He went to turn on the closed sign and lock the front doors before coming over to hug me. "You're not crazy, Lena, just stressed. One month and I'll be around every night."

I nodded into his chest, wanting to believe him. But what happened in that theater was real, or at least I thought it was. Either way, a huge problem.

∞ ∞ ∞

Zander gripped the wheel so tight the veins in his forearms fought to escape his dark skin as he sped down the street. Mount Pocono cops didn't bother patrolling too much on a Tuesday night, but they were around. The last thing Zander needed was a speeding ticket. I didn't tell him to slow down. Who'd listen to a person who swore a chair tried to eat her, anyway?

He maneuvered his car through the muddy, pothole-filled lanes of the park leading to my trailer, not even bitching like usual. There wasn't anything I could say. Either I was going nuts or something impossible happened and no one believed me.

When we pulled up to my trailer, he let go of the wheel and turned to me. Before he said a word, tears filled my eyes. "I don't know what's happening."

He wiped my cheeks, his eyes transforming back to the soft, deep brown I knew so well. He even managed a small grin. "Shh, don't cry."

"Whatever that was, I can't explain, but I'm not crazy." I wasn't so sure about that, but he didn't need to know it.

He shook his head, his eyes clouding over before he turned to gaze out the windshield. "Get some sleep. I'll see you later."

"Tomor–?"

"'Night, Lena." He never cut me off–ever. Maybe this put him over the edge. But I wouldn't beg him to stay.

As soon as I shut the passenger door, Zander drove off, not bothering to avoid the potholes.

My whole body rang and my legs shook as I climbed the cement blocks that made up my front "porch." Maybe I did need some sleep...on a frosty, broken waterbed. No chance sleep would be comfortable.

I stepped into the trailer, and the smell of stale beer and skunky dope hit my nose, turning my stomach. There was Dad, in the same chair he usually slept in, wide-awake. Mom must've already gone to bed, which was surprising. The bastard liked to make her sit up with him so he could remind her how much of a piece of dirt she was. But Dad sat alone tonight, looking at his Native American pictures, taking a huge pull off a fat joint–smoking the rent money, no doubt.

"Where you been?" He didn't take his eyes off a solemn chief hanging by his chair.

"With Zander." Two months ago, he started demanding rent, but paying him and saving for the apartment wasn't in my budget. When I told him no, he smacked me, busting my lip. I told him shortly after I quit the theater. Now, when he was still up and sober enough to ask why I came home late, I made stuff up. I had until eighteen, he'd said, and then I was on my own.

No problem.

"Only whores spend so much alone time with a boy." He finished off his beer and pulled another from the case.

"Thanks." It was pointless to argue. He'd get pissed, and I had enough bruises on my body for one night.

"Better not come home pregnant. I'll kick your ass outta here faster than shit."

"Gotcha." I waited to see if he wanted to add anything else to our little heart-to-heart.

He didn't disappoint. "He hangs out with you so he can dip his stick into the wrong side of the tracks. When he gets bored, he'll go back where he belongs, leave you knocked up, expecting me to take care of it." He took another hit, continuing on the inhale, "Just like your mom, opening her legs to everything in the neighborhood."

I used to yell. I used to cry. Now, I pictured the cute place above Jake's that'd be mine in a month. "I'll do my best to keep my legs closed."

"Don't get smart, girl." He tried to stand, but must've thought better of it when he wobbled, flopping back into the chair. "Forget to slap on a raincoat, and this is what I get..."

I didn't stick around to listen. He could tell his chief what I'd heard a million times already.

His ranting echoed off the paneled walls, smacking my ears, even after I made it to my room. I pushed in the knob of the feeble door, knowing if he wanted in the lock wouldn't stop him. Since he couldn't stand, it'd work like Fort Knox tonight.

After piling five blankets on the face of the rubber mattress, I stripped to my underwear, throwing my jeans at the end of the bed for the next day. It took a few more minutes to bundle into my usual nightclothes: heavy socks, a fluorescent orange winter hat, a pair of long underwear, and an old sweatshirt with the Penn State logo.

I crawled into bed and pulled a few thin blankets over my body, curling into the fetal position. Getting pulled into the chair was impossible, I knew that, but the bruises on my arms were real. Unfortunately, the expressions on Jake and Zander's faces, and the total nonexistence of what caused the bruising, made me think my mind finally snapped.

And how Zander left...

I wouldn't tell him about any other crazy shit. That decision wouldn't change, especially after tonight. If I had another episode, the only person hearing about it would be the reflection in the mirror.

Breathe in...breathe out...ignore the cold...this little pep talk never works...

A subtle movement rolled the mattress. It didn't faze me at first. My under-filled mattress always moved at the smallest twinge. I focused on staying completely still, hating the slight motion sickness.

You are not safe anywhere, Lena.

The voice blared right inside my head, sounding too close to the whispering in the theater. Worse, it seemed to trigger the mattress. The subtle roll turned into a wave, and another, until the bed roiled and twisted like the Atlantic.

I struggled to flick on the lamp, only to see the bed act as though it were a breathing, living thing. From under the blankets, what felt like fingers began to stab at my back and calves. Fear paralyzed me for a few seconds before I pushed off the bed, landing in a heap of threadbare blankets.

The mattress continued waving while I sat with my back against the wall. I shut my eyes.

It's not real!

It's not real!

It's not real!

Only when the sloshing water hitting rubber stopped did I open my eyes. The bed was as docile as ever.

Tears burned the back of my lids, but I refused to let them go. If I was losing my mind...no, I couldn't lose my mind. Mom's life depended on it.

Wrapping the blankets around my body, I settled in for a long, sleepless night on the floor. The damn bed looked as innocent as a newborn, but no way was I putting even one finger on it again. Zander or Jake wouldn't find out, either. They didn't need any more Lena-is-nuts evidence.

One last thought crossed my mind before sleep finally came: I'll find you...

Him better hurry up.

Lynn Vroman

Born in Pennsylvania, Lynn spent most of her childhood, especially during math class, daydreaming. The main result that came from honing her imagination skills was brilliantly failing algebra. Today, she still spends an obscene amount of time in her head, only now she writes down all the cool stuff.

With a degree in English Literature, Lynn used college as an excuse to read for four years straight. She lives in the Pocono Mountains with her husband, raising the four most incredible human beings on the planet. She writes young adult novels, both fantasy and contemporary.

Connect with Lynn:

[Blog][Twitter][Facebook][Goodreads][Wattpad]

The Energy Series

Tainted Energy

Lost Energy

Fractured Energy

Energy Reborn

Summer Confessions

(A southern young adult LGBT contemporary romance)

Book 2 of the Energy Series

Last spring, Lena discovered who she was.

Now all she wants to do is move on–and find a way to be with Tarek, the new Warden of Arcus and the love of her life. Even though worlds separate them now, she holds onto the hope they'll be together again. Until then, Lena focuses on being truly happy for the first time in her life...this life. She has new friends, an apartment free from her abusive father, and the chance to live a normal life.

But for Lena, the past never stays gone.

A woman from another lifetime reveals Cassondra, Exemplian's new authority commander, is seeking revenge against Tarek for killing her brother. There is only one way to end this new threat...

This time, it will take more than Wilma to keep the monsters away. It'll take an entire army–an army who remembers Lena from her past life, and who might just want her dead, too.

Lena's past will shape her future more than she could ever imagine.

Summer Confessions

Macy Diaz has managed childhood friend Jeb Porter's crush for years. However, his infatuation turns to obsession, even putting a kid in the hospital just for hitting on her. In the past, Macy brushed it off, explained his bizarre acts away. But now she harbors a secret. She's in love...with Jeb's sister, Rachel.

By some miracle, Rachel loves Macy back, and despite the small minds polluting their sleepy southern town, they're sticking together. Unfortunately, making sure Jeb never grows suspicious proves harder every day–until everything falls apart.

As a sick, unstable Jeb starts to threaten all Macy values, she is reminded of what has always been perfectly clear. Macy belongs to him, only him, and he won't let her go. Ever.

If only Macy could've loved Jeb, she wouldn't have to worry about surviving him now.

