The replacement book 1 o.., p.11
The Replacement: Book 1 of The Replacement Series, page 11
Sleep,” I say a third time before Angelica closes her eyes.
“One dose of your blood and she is a wreck.” Kyle and I walk to Jordan’s room and pick out chairs.
“Emotions are okay now. She has us to support her. She’s not alone in a room day after day.” Kyle is bubbling with happiness. It is a bit nauseating to see him like this. “She can’t hide from her feelings forever. This time down here, together, is supposed to be about moving past human experiences and emotions with a support system.” I roll my eyes.
“You are such a Dormant,” Jordan says to Kyle as he sits up from sleep. “Can the two of you debate without waking me up?” Kyle and I look at each other, confused.
“Sorry, habit,” I say quickly. “We normally talk in the viewing room and . . .” I trail off.
“That’s blocked,” Kyle offers.
“And we were not going into my room,” I add.
“Nor mine.”
Jordan waves at Kyle to stop talking and shakes his head. “Once again, I am the only one here that can think clearly. We have had her out mere hours, and you already put her to sleep I gather?” I nod yes. “You cannot do that every time you want to talk about her. The time for analyzing Angelica has passed. You had five years for that. It is time to move forward with the process.”
“It’s not as easy as it sounds. We have to teach her everything about our kind and get her to open up. Her next exams determine placement,” Kyle says in our defense.
“Which is why the process takes years. Are you finally getting what Clara has been trying to show you all this time? It cannot happen overnight. She is nowhere near the Lymerian she will be someday. Right now she is still so human.”
Jordan’s words settle on us. They are disappointing to hear, but he is right. The years already spent with Angelica were simply to ensure that she would not be a threat to anyone, that she had physically transitioned.
“Her mind and body have healed, but her heart is another thing entirely. We have to win her over.” Jordan looks at me then Kyle. “You two have to win her over.”
“Why didn’t you say this yesterday?” Kyle asks with a dramatic eye roll, lightening the serious tone in the air. Jordan is not amused.
“When she wakes, we begin. We have to teach her about Lymerians as a whole and specifically about ourselves,” I say, also ignoring Kyle’s joke. “From now on we use the cell if we want to talk. It is far enough away that she will not be able to hear us.”
“How are you going to teach her about your history?” Kyle asks.
“I will tell her everything when she is ready.”
“That isn’t an answer. Last time you decided when she was ready, we were all wrecked for weeks. Here’s what we should do. I focus on late Norse to now. You two are from the same surge—Jordan can cover Africa and early Norse. Clara, anything pre-Africa is your responsibility.”
The Vegar in me does not want to follow a plan that is not mine, but Kyle’s idea makes sense.
“It is a good plan, Kyle,” Jordan says, rescuing me from
admitting Kyle’s plan is better than mine.
“Okay,” I say finally, and we begin.
♦♦♦
Over the next several months, we become teachers, each with a different specialty. Jordan spends his time with Angelica talking about our glory days in Afri-terra, or Africa as it is now called. He makes sure to include personal details about both of our experiences. Just as Kyle suggested, it makes sense that Jordan speak for us both.
This arrangement works very well, and I see a new relationship forming. He is the father Angelica always yearned for, and Jordan has found his place in Liturgy. They are never affectionate, not like human father and daughter, but he affects her. When Jordan is around, Angelica straightens. When he speaks, she hangs on his words. When he compliments her training, I see the smile in her eyes.
As one might expect, Angelica quickly warms to Kyle’s good nature. His adoration is in every word, gesture, and glance. He would do anything for her—would die for her. It is unlikely anyone has ever cared for her that openly. When they are together, they sit a little too close and let their arms graze against each other. Twice I see her embrace him. Perhaps I should not credit everything to Liturgy; Kyle is very likeable. He puts people at ease and makes them laugh.
My fears about Kyle being left to his own devices with Angelica lessen, though do not disappear entirely. He is a devoted friend to her, and she has accepted his friendship. Our hope is that she will trust him with secrets from her human life. Secrets we can use to determine her placement and monitor progress.
But even after months together, their conversations continue to focus on Kyle. She does not mention Merrick, and I wonder how much she is holding on to. They were together for a year and more than six have passed since his death. How can we know if it is behind her?
It is my job to break Angelica out of the mindset of a human. Her new body, forged by the blood of the council elders, has capabilities beyond her wildest fantasies. There are significant training limitations down here, but we make the best of it. When she breaks free of the human mindset, she will understand her potential.
After a year of training together, she is not extraordinary. Not once have I sensed the dangerous Angelica who fought through the crowd during the ceremony or the savage girl that attacked me again and again without fear. Nevertheless, I train her as I would one of my Slayers. No matter what future Liturgy holds, she was given the Vegar as Architect for a reason. One way or another, I will find what is hiding within her.
♦♦♦
“If I run that fast, I’m going to go straight into a wall.”
Angelica and I have been arguing about this for weeks. She is to run to her old cell and back while I time her. Then run again and beat the previous time. It is a simple task.
“You are talking like a Dormant,” I say, more than a little irritated.
“Maybe I am a Dormant,” Angelica says defiantly. Jordan’s scoff reaches us from down the hall. We make eye contact. My eyes blaze triumph while hers stay obstinate.
“Of course Jordan is going to agree with you.”
“Should we have the conversation again? Everyone agrees that you are not a Dormant. You did not even like humans when you were one. Name one friend that you had.” Before she can speak, I add, “Not Janice—she was barely human.” I say it as a compliment and Angelica knows it. From the little I have been told of Janice, I feel I would like her. Angelica crosses her arms, unwilling to dignify my question with an answer.
“Whatever division you are, it has been with you always. You never wanted to be in that world. You tolerated it. You did not care about the future. You did not care about school and did not fit in” Angelica drops her arms and stands up straight, getting ready to make an argument. I do not let her. “Plans with Merrick do not count.”
“Why doesn’t it count?” Angelica’s passionate response dwindles before she can complete the sentence. I glare at her, half warning and half daring her to push me.
“Kyle, I can hear you inching closer to us. You are not coming to her rescue. It is my session.” Faintly, I hear his footsteps retreat, then Jordan’s hushed voice. The two of them are sucking up my last bit of patience. Instead of having an outburst, I breathe. “Plans made with a loved one, especially at the beginning of a relationship, are based on the desire to spend time together.” Angelica stares at me. “It means you really liked him,” I say flatly. “It does not mean you planned a future.” She does not reply. Perhaps I should not have mentioned Merrick. But we need to stop tiptoeing around it. I try again.
“Skills are developed based on the body’s needs. You will not be able to hear miles away until you convince your body it needs to. You will not be able to outrun a car until you have shown your body how to. Our cells will regenerate and adapt to whatever circumstance this planet has to offer. It will be painful, but that is how we earn our talents and skills.”
“What if I don’t care about this place either?” she asks stubbornly.
“Litmars make our laws and monitor the economics and politics of all the countries on Earth. Dormants are our eyes and ears of the everyday human. They learn invaluable trades and services from being part of the human world. Guards save lives, both human and Lymerian. Slayers win wars and conquer darkness, both human and Lymerian. Can you find something in there to care about?”
Angelica stands up straight, as if she has finally heard something that makes sense to her. “And the pain?” I have almost convinced her.
“Eventually you stop noticing the pain,” I say. “Run as fast as you can to the cell and back.”
Chapter 17
Angelica
It’s been over a year since I left my cell, but we visit it often as a training site. Gouges decorate the walls and floors, some there on purpose and others . . . accidents. Clara uses every part of the dungeons to train me, always coming up with something new and never running out solutions to problems.
Being able to heal fast drives the Lymerians to push and work harder than a human ever could. There are no limits to what Clara will ask me to do, because she knows that I can heal from any sort of injury I incur. There have been countless broken bones, gashes, constant scabs and bruises. Everything she wants me to do hurts. Sometimes I must feed from all three of them to heal. If I’m really upset with the session, I’ll refuse their blood and wait for my body to heal on its own. Jordan and Kyle don’t like it when I do that, but I think it makes Clara happy. She wants me to be tough, to work through my discomfort.
Kyle says born Lymerians train for decades before they are given a division, while a Votary has about ten years to prepare. Liturgy allows more to be accomplished in less time.
Fun fact. Newborn Lymerians are considered children for their first hundred years on Earth. Physically they are fully grown after thirty human years. Since a Lymerian body changes based on what it takes in, aging the body is easy.
Clara is pushing my body to the limits, but I’m the only one that can push my brain. I’m obsessed with remembering every detail of every day. Each morning I play out my life since the moment I woke up in the cell and knew I was one of them. Between the long periods of sleep and moments lost in memories, the beginning years are not as precise as recent ones. “Good timing,” I say, hearing Jordan as I finish the memory
exercise.
“How do you know when I’m ready each morning?”
“Your breathing changes,” Jordan says bluntly and sits down in the chair next to my bed. The chair used to be in Jordan’s room, but he moved it in here for lessons. Jordan takes out his creese.
“How are feeling? Clara says you refused to feed yesterday. Has everything healed?” I nod. I’m healing faster and faster every day. “You better feed anyway. You need to keep up your strength.”
Any time I’m being stubborn and Clara and Kyle want me to feed, they send in Jordan. They know I won’t turn him away. Jordan slices across his arm, and I sip from him. The blood scatters inside of me, soothing places I didn’t even realize needed attention.
“Don’t tell Kyle, but I think I like your blood the best,” I say, watching his skin heal. For just a few minutes after each feeding with Jordan, I am my old human self. Memories so real overpower me, like sunshine on my face or the smell of fresh cut grass. Hard to believe it’s been six years down here. At least I’m not the only one stuck here, I guess.
“He can probably hear you,” Jordan replies in his firm, all- business tone. I wish Kyle were here, if only to ease Jordan’s tension. Kyle even gets Jordan to laugh sometimes. His jokes are usually at Clara’s expense, so Jordan’s deep chuckle is always short lived. I can’t help wanting to hear Jordan let go in a hearty belly laugh.
Kyle and Clara bicker like brother and sister, and I am their favorite toy they must share. Clara always wins though, because Kyle backs down. For a second, I try to imagine Kyle standing his ground, fighting Clara.
“What are you smiling at?” Jordan interrupts.
“I was trying to imagine what a real fight would look like between Clara and Kyle.” Before Jordan can stop himself, he flashes a smile. For one brief moment, I see his teeth. “What? Tell me. For goodness sake, Kyle can’t hear us. Neither can Clara for that matter. Both of them are in the cell.”
“How do you know that?” Jordan asks, surprised.
“I can always sense when they are near. In my cell, I sometimes felt like Clara was gone entirely.” Jordan nods. “The sensation was dull then. When I met Kyle, I really felt it, the electric pulse. Since then I’ve been keeping an eye it, noticing when it’s strong or weak.”
“Tracking,” Jordan confirms. “Possibly a side effect of Liturgy or an indication of something more.” I wait, hoping he is going to explain what that means. “The skill can be used by both Guards and Slayers. Slayers use tracking to hunt people. Guards use it as a lifeline between themselves and their ward. Very skilled Guards can reach for anyone with their tracking sense.”
“Lifeline . . . so like to know where they are?”
“Exactly, like what you just did with Clara and Kyle. But that could also be Liturgy connecting you to them.” I nod, understanding he doesn’t want to take a side. Clara is team Slayer and Kyle is team Guard. Still, I might be neither.
“What about tracking other people?” I ask, firing off another question. “Why would a Guard do that?”
“To know how they are feeling, if they are lying. The stronger your emotional connection to the other Lymerian, the more accurate the sense.” Guards are sneaky. A silence follows as I realize Jordan knew where Clara was this whole time; Kyle too. Was he just testing me?
“Keep tracking them,” Jordan instructs, then smiles. “If you promise not to bring it up around them, I will tell you about the time Kyle tried—” He smiles again and looks down. “I am sorry, it really is quite funny looking back. The time he tried to fight Clara.”
“What?!” I exclaim, nearly forgetting everything he just said. “I thought she was unbeatable. How could a Guard possibly stand a chance?”
“He thought I was going to fight with him.” My jaw drops.
“You’d never hurt Clara. Didn’t he understand that?”
Jordan shakes his head. “It was in the beginning, before we understood how the three of us fit together.”
“So what happened?” I’m on the edge of my bed now, buzzing with excitement. A near forgotten delight tickles my heart—fun.
“Well . . .” Jordan begins.
“You are not backing out. Please, please, please.”
Jordan sighs. “They are both going to be upset. Pay attention to your tracking. As soon as you know they are headed back, stop me.” I nod, folding my feet under me and sitting straight up.
“Kyle was not himself at the beginning. It took him years to relax and be as you know him now. At first, he was tense and very worried about you. If you are truly a Guard, someday you will understand how unbearable it was for him to see you suffering. His first instinct was to challenge the person that stood in the way of himself and his ward.”
Jordan pauses, and it reminds me of the last time someone told me a story. Vic used to tell Rebecca and me stories, battle stories from history—his favorite subject. He liked to dramatically pause and keep us on the edge of our seats before going on. That same anticipation hangs between us.
“Kyle assumed that the two Guards chosen for Liturgy were to balance out the power of the Architect, but he had it all wrong. Before anyone could explain that to him, he pushed Clara too far, which as you know does not take much.
“I hope you can see her in her true form someday,” Jordan adds. “Right now, she is not the Vegar. She is your Architect. That constant fire that burns inside her has dwindled here. Make no mistake, she is the deadliest person in the world. When we go upstairs, she will be that person again.”
I go cold because I know he is telling the truth. “Kyle picked a fight with the deadliest person in the world?” Jordan nods. “For me?” Affection for Kyle warms away the cold. Kyle hasn’t tried to hide his feelings for me, but this is the first time I’ve heard of him acting on them. I refocus. “What happened next?”
“It was over in seconds. Clara delivered three blows with a chair then nearly suffocated him.”
My jaw drops. “How did you get her to stop?”
“I asked her,” Jordan says softly. “Kyle held it against me for some time, that I had not sided with him. But eventually he could see the way he feels about you is exactly how I feel about Clara, and there is nothing either of us can do about it.”
Would Jordan trade places with another if he could? Does he resent the control he’s under?
“You know how he feels, right?” I nod gently. “You do not have to feel the same way. The last thing you need is a mate. Find out who you are first.”
I think about that. Being around Kyle isn’t like being around Merrick, but I like it when he stands close or touches me accidentally. He is strong and devoted, and if I ask him to stay he will never leave me. Would I want to live forever simply being content, and never feel the fire in my heart that I felt with Merrick?
“Forever is a long time,” Jordan says, reading my mind. “You never know who will come into your life.”
“You can’t leave a mate?”
Jordan looks down for a long time before he answers. “You can, but at great cost. Our bonds are meant to last centuries, much longer than a human lifetime. When they break, it is a much deeper anguish than a human can comprehend.” I may not be able to sense Jordan the way I can Kyle and Clara, but I’m sure Jordan left his mate for Liturgy. He lost in this as well.
“They get along now, Kyle and Clara,” I say, going back to the original conversation. Talking mates and relationships is opening old wounds. Falling in love is why I am here, how I lost everything. Jordan is right. Find out who you are first—a division—before you think about love.
“Yes.” Jordan nods sharply, back to himself. “It has been some time since we have quarreled.”
“One dose of your blood and she is a wreck.” Kyle and I walk to Jordan’s room and pick out chairs.
“Emotions are okay now. She has us to support her. She’s not alone in a room day after day.” Kyle is bubbling with happiness. It is a bit nauseating to see him like this. “She can’t hide from her feelings forever. This time down here, together, is supposed to be about moving past human experiences and emotions with a support system.” I roll my eyes.
“You are such a Dormant,” Jordan says to Kyle as he sits up from sleep. “Can the two of you debate without waking me up?” Kyle and I look at each other, confused.
“Sorry, habit,” I say quickly. “We normally talk in the viewing room and . . .” I trail off.
“That’s blocked,” Kyle offers.
“And we were not going into my room,” I add.
“Nor mine.”
Jordan waves at Kyle to stop talking and shakes his head. “Once again, I am the only one here that can think clearly. We have had her out mere hours, and you already put her to sleep I gather?” I nod yes. “You cannot do that every time you want to talk about her. The time for analyzing Angelica has passed. You had five years for that. It is time to move forward with the process.”
“It’s not as easy as it sounds. We have to teach her everything about our kind and get her to open up. Her next exams determine placement,” Kyle says in our defense.
“Which is why the process takes years. Are you finally getting what Clara has been trying to show you all this time? It cannot happen overnight. She is nowhere near the Lymerian she will be someday. Right now she is still so human.”
Jordan’s words settle on us. They are disappointing to hear, but he is right. The years already spent with Angelica were simply to ensure that she would not be a threat to anyone, that she had physically transitioned.
“Her mind and body have healed, but her heart is another thing entirely. We have to win her over.” Jordan looks at me then Kyle. “You two have to win her over.”
“Why didn’t you say this yesterday?” Kyle asks with a dramatic eye roll, lightening the serious tone in the air. Jordan is not amused.
“When she wakes, we begin. We have to teach her about Lymerians as a whole and specifically about ourselves,” I say, also ignoring Kyle’s joke. “From now on we use the cell if we want to talk. It is far enough away that she will not be able to hear us.”
“How are you going to teach her about your history?” Kyle asks.
“I will tell her everything when she is ready.”
“That isn’t an answer. Last time you decided when she was ready, we were all wrecked for weeks. Here’s what we should do. I focus on late Norse to now. You two are from the same surge—Jordan can cover Africa and early Norse. Clara, anything pre-Africa is your responsibility.”
The Vegar in me does not want to follow a plan that is not mine, but Kyle’s idea makes sense.
“It is a good plan, Kyle,” Jordan says, rescuing me from
admitting Kyle’s plan is better than mine.
“Okay,” I say finally, and we begin.
♦♦♦
Over the next several months, we become teachers, each with a different specialty. Jordan spends his time with Angelica talking about our glory days in Afri-terra, or Africa as it is now called. He makes sure to include personal details about both of our experiences. Just as Kyle suggested, it makes sense that Jordan speak for us both.
This arrangement works very well, and I see a new relationship forming. He is the father Angelica always yearned for, and Jordan has found his place in Liturgy. They are never affectionate, not like human father and daughter, but he affects her. When Jordan is around, Angelica straightens. When he speaks, she hangs on his words. When he compliments her training, I see the smile in her eyes.
As one might expect, Angelica quickly warms to Kyle’s good nature. His adoration is in every word, gesture, and glance. He would do anything for her—would die for her. It is unlikely anyone has ever cared for her that openly. When they are together, they sit a little too close and let their arms graze against each other. Twice I see her embrace him. Perhaps I should not credit everything to Liturgy; Kyle is very likeable. He puts people at ease and makes them laugh.
My fears about Kyle being left to his own devices with Angelica lessen, though do not disappear entirely. He is a devoted friend to her, and she has accepted his friendship. Our hope is that she will trust him with secrets from her human life. Secrets we can use to determine her placement and monitor progress.
But even after months together, their conversations continue to focus on Kyle. She does not mention Merrick, and I wonder how much she is holding on to. They were together for a year and more than six have passed since his death. How can we know if it is behind her?
It is my job to break Angelica out of the mindset of a human. Her new body, forged by the blood of the council elders, has capabilities beyond her wildest fantasies. There are significant training limitations down here, but we make the best of it. When she breaks free of the human mindset, she will understand her potential.
After a year of training together, she is not extraordinary. Not once have I sensed the dangerous Angelica who fought through the crowd during the ceremony or the savage girl that attacked me again and again without fear. Nevertheless, I train her as I would one of my Slayers. No matter what future Liturgy holds, she was given the Vegar as Architect for a reason. One way or another, I will find what is hiding within her.
♦♦♦
“If I run that fast, I’m going to go straight into a wall.”
Angelica and I have been arguing about this for weeks. She is to run to her old cell and back while I time her. Then run again and beat the previous time. It is a simple task.
“You are talking like a Dormant,” I say, more than a little irritated.
“Maybe I am a Dormant,” Angelica says defiantly. Jordan’s scoff reaches us from down the hall. We make eye contact. My eyes blaze triumph while hers stay obstinate.
“Of course Jordan is going to agree with you.”
“Should we have the conversation again? Everyone agrees that you are not a Dormant. You did not even like humans when you were one. Name one friend that you had.” Before she can speak, I add, “Not Janice—she was barely human.” I say it as a compliment and Angelica knows it. From the little I have been told of Janice, I feel I would like her. Angelica crosses her arms, unwilling to dignify my question with an answer.
“Whatever division you are, it has been with you always. You never wanted to be in that world. You tolerated it. You did not care about the future. You did not care about school and did not fit in” Angelica drops her arms and stands up straight, getting ready to make an argument. I do not let her. “Plans with Merrick do not count.”
“Why doesn’t it count?” Angelica’s passionate response dwindles before she can complete the sentence. I glare at her, half warning and half daring her to push me.
“Kyle, I can hear you inching closer to us. You are not coming to her rescue. It is my session.” Faintly, I hear his footsteps retreat, then Jordan’s hushed voice. The two of them are sucking up my last bit of patience. Instead of having an outburst, I breathe. “Plans made with a loved one, especially at the beginning of a relationship, are based on the desire to spend time together.” Angelica stares at me. “It means you really liked him,” I say flatly. “It does not mean you planned a future.” She does not reply. Perhaps I should not have mentioned Merrick. But we need to stop tiptoeing around it. I try again.
“Skills are developed based on the body’s needs. You will not be able to hear miles away until you convince your body it needs to. You will not be able to outrun a car until you have shown your body how to. Our cells will regenerate and adapt to whatever circumstance this planet has to offer. It will be painful, but that is how we earn our talents and skills.”
“What if I don’t care about this place either?” she asks stubbornly.
“Litmars make our laws and monitor the economics and politics of all the countries on Earth. Dormants are our eyes and ears of the everyday human. They learn invaluable trades and services from being part of the human world. Guards save lives, both human and Lymerian. Slayers win wars and conquer darkness, both human and Lymerian. Can you find something in there to care about?”
Angelica stands up straight, as if she has finally heard something that makes sense to her. “And the pain?” I have almost convinced her.
“Eventually you stop noticing the pain,” I say. “Run as fast as you can to the cell and back.”
Chapter 17
Angelica
It’s been over a year since I left my cell, but we visit it often as a training site. Gouges decorate the walls and floors, some there on purpose and others . . . accidents. Clara uses every part of the dungeons to train me, always coming up with something new and never running out solutions to problems.
Being able to heal fast drives the Lymerians to push and work harder than a human ever could. There are no limits to what Clara will ask me to do, because she knows that I can heal from any sort of injury I incur. There have been countless broken bones, gashes, constant scabs and bruises. Everything she wants me to do hurts. Sometimes I must feed from all three of them to heal. If I’m really upset with the session, I’ll refuse their blood and wait for my body to heal on its own. Jordan and Kyle don’t like it when I do that, but I think it makes Clara happy. She wants me to be tough, to work through my discomfort.
Kyle says born Lymerians train for decades before they are given a division, while a Votary has about ten years to prepare. Liturgy allows more to be accomplished in less time.
Fun fact. Newborn Lymerians are considered children for their first hundred years on Earth. Physically they are fully grown after thirty human years. Since a Lymerian body changes based on what it takes in, aging the body is easy.
Clara is pushing my body to the limits, but I’m the only one that can push my brain. I’m obsessed with remembering every detail of every day. Each morning I play out my life since the moment I woke up in the cell and knew I was one of them. Between the long periods of sleep and moments lost in memories, the beginning years are not as precise as recent ones. “Good timing,” I say, hearing Jordan as I finish the memory
exercise.
“How do you know when I’m ready each morning?”
“Your breathing changes,” Jordan says bluntly and sits down in the chair next to my bed. The chair used to be in Jordan’s room, but he moved it in here for lessons. Jordan takes out his creese.
“How are feeling? Clara says you refused to feed yesterday. Has everything healed?” I nod. I’m healing faster and faster every day. “You better feed anyway. You need to keep up your strength.”
Any time I’m being stubborn and Clara and Kyle want me to feed, they send in Jordan. They know I won’t turn him away. Jordan slices across his arm, and I sip from him. The blood scatters inside of me, soothing places I didn’t even realize needed attention.
“Don’t tell Kyle, but I think I like your blood the best,” I say, watching his skin heal. For just a few minutes after each feeding with Jordan, I am my old human self. Memories so real overpower me, like sunshine on my face or the smell of fresh cut grass. Hard to believe it’s been six years down here. At least I’m not the only one stuck here, I guess.
“He can probably hear you,” Jordan replies in his firm, all- business tone. I wish Kyle were here, if only to ease Jordan’s tension. Kyle even gets Jordan to laugh sometimes. His jokes are usually at Clara’s expense, so Jordan’s deep chuckle is always short lived. I can’t help wanting to hear Jordan let go in a hearty belly laugh.
Kyle and Clara bicker like brother and sister, and I am their favorite toy they must share. Clara always wins though, because Kyle backs down. For a second, I try to imagine Kyle standing his ground, fighting Clara.
“What are you smiling at?” Jordan interrupts.
“I was trying to imagine what a real fight would look like between Clara and Kyle.” Before Jordan can stop himself, he flashes a smile. For one brief moment, I see his teeth. “What? Tell me. For goodness sake, Kyle can’t hear us. Neither can Clara for that matter. Both of them are in the cell.”
“How do you know that?” Jordan asks, surprised.
“I can always sense when they are near. In my cell, I sometimes felt like Clara was gone entirely.” Jordan nods. “The sensation was dull then. When I met Kyle, I really felt it, the electric pulse. Since then I’ve been keeping an eye it, noticing when it’s strong or weak.”
“Tracking,” Jordan confirms. “Possibly a side effect of Liturgy or an indication of something more.” I wait, hoping he is going to explain what that means. “The skill can be used by both Guards and Slayers. Slayers use tracking to hunt people. Guards use it as a lifeline between themselves and their ward. Very skilled Guards can reach for anyone with their tracking sense.”
“Lifeline . . . so like to know where they are?”
“Exactly, like what you just did with Clara and Kyle. But that could also be Liturgy connecting you to them.” I nod, understanding he doesn’t want to take a side. Clara is team Slayer and Kyle is team Guard. Still, I might be neither.
“What about tracking other people?” I ask, firing off another question. “Why would a Guard do that?”
“To know how they are feeling, if they are lying. The stronger your emotional connection to the other Lymerian, the more accurate the sense.” Guards are sneaky. A silence follows as I realize Jordan knew where Clara was this whole time; Kyle too. Was he just testing me?
“Keep tracking them,” Jordan instructs, then smiles. “If you promise not to bring it up around them, I will tell you about the time Kyle tried—” He smiles again and looks down. “I am sorry, it really is quite funny looking back. The time he tried to fight Clara.”
“What?!” I exclaim, nearly forgetting everything he just said. “I thought she was unbeatable. How could a Guard possibly stand a chance?”
“He thought I was going to fight with him.” My jaw drops.
“You’d never hurt Clara. Didn’t he understand that?”
Jordan shakes his head. “It was in the beginning, before we understood how the three of us fit together.”
“So what happened?” I’m on the edge of my bed now, buzzing with excitement. A near forgotten delight tickles my heart—fun.
“Well . . .” Jordan begins.
“You are not backing out. Please, please, please.”
Jordan sighs. “They are both going to be upset. Pay attention to your tracking. As soon as you know they are headed back, stop me.” I nod, folding my feet under me and sitting straight up.
“Kyle was not himself at the beginning. It took him years to relax and be as you know him now. At first, he was tense and very worried about you. If you are truly a Guard, someday you will understand how unbearable it was for him to see you suffering. His first instinct was to challenge the person that stood in the way of himself and his ward.”
Jordan pauses, and it reminds me of the last time someone told me a story. Vic used to tell Rebecca and me stories, battle stories from history—his favorite subject. He liked to dramatically pause and keep us on the edge of our seats before going on. That same anticipation hangs between us.
“Kyle assumed that the two Guards chosen for Liturgy were to balance out the power of the Architect, but he had it all wrong. Before anyone could explain that to him, he pushed Clara too far, which as you know does not take much.
“I hope you can see her in her true form someday,” Jordan adds. “Right now, she is not the Vegar. She is your Architect. That constant fire that burns inside her has dwindled here. Make no mistake, she is the deadliest person in the world. When we go upstairs, she will be that person again.”
I go cold because I know he is telling the truth. “Kyle picked a fight with the deadliest person in the world?” Jordan nods. “For me?” Affection for Kyle warms away the cold. Kyle hasn’t tried to hide his feelings for me, but this is the first time I’ve heard of him acting on them. I refocus. “What happened next?”
“It was over in seconds. Clara delivered three blows with a chair then nearly suffocated him.”
My jaw drops. “How did you get her to stop?”
“I asked her,” Jordan says softly. “Kyle held it against me for some time, that I had not sided with him. But eventually he could see the way he feels about you is exactly how I feel about Clara, and there is nothing either of us can do about it.”
Would Jordan trade places with another if he could? Does he resent the control he’s under?
“You know how he feels, right?” I nod gently. “You do not have to feel the same way. The last thing you need is a mate. Find out who you are first.”
I think about that. Being around Kyle isn’t like being around Merrick, but I like it when he stands close or touches me accidentally. He is strong and devoted, and if I ask him to stay he will never leave me. Would I want to live forever simply being content, and never feel the fire in my heart that I felt with Merrick?
“Forever is a long time,” Jordan says, reading my mind. “You never know who will come into your life.”
“You can’t leave a mate?”
Jordan looks down for a long time before he answers. “You can, but at great cost. Our bonds are meant to last centuries, much longer than a human lifetime. When they break, it is a much deeper anguish than a human can comprehend.” I may not be able to sense Jordan the way I can Kyle and Clara, but I’m sure Jordan left his mate for Liturgy. He lost in this as well.
“They get along now, Kyle and Clara,” I say, going back to the original conversation. Talking mates and relationships is opening old wounds. Falling in love is why I am here, how I lost everything. Jordan is right. Find out who you are first—a division—before you think about love.
“Yes.” Jordan nods sharply, back to himself. “It has been some time since we have quarreled.”
