Day and night tumbled over each other, light and dark, pain and sleep. Hot waves of agony crashed through Draven’s body, and he froze and burned, sometimes at the same time. He was dimly aware of someone moving about in the space around him, but he was too sick to identify who it was or what their intention might be.
Sometimes his head was gently lifted from the pillow, and he was given small sips of water. At least, he thought it was water. It had a funny, metallic taste, and he didn’t like it. Later, though, his mouth was so dry and his body so hot that he gulped it down, not caring about the taste. Sometimes it came right back up, and then someone held his head and stroked his sweat-soaked hair while his stomach heaved.
Light and dark flashed by again with dizzying speed. A hand brushed his forehead, then moved carefully behind him to lift his head. A straw was placed gently between his lips, and Draven sucked down cool water.
“That’s it. Drink as much as you can.”
Draven couldn’t remember who that voice belonged to. He forced his eyes open and found himself looking up at Cameron Asada.
What the hell was Asada doing here?
And where was here?
Cameron laid a hand over his forehead. “Good. The fever’s gone, at least.”
“Fever?” Draven whispered.
“You got stabbed, remember?”
Memory came surging back, and Draven recalled snatches of a hellish flight through a snowstorm, and lying in bed in a primitive lodge, a warm body beside him. He glanced around, but this room was different. Brighter. Warmer. No stove in the corner with dark shadows creeping from behind it.
“Where…?” he rasped.
“You’re on Institute property. This is one of the cabins we use for training. Or for getting people off of riptide.”
Draven shuddered.
Riptide.
He wasn’t craving it, but he didn’t feel high, either.
“Am I healed?”
“From the stab wound, yes. But not psionically. Eleni fixed you up, and she did a nice job. Can’t even see a scar.”
“You looked?”
Cameron flushed. “It’s always… interesting to see what my sister can do. I couldn’t see any trace of the bullet wound she healed a few years back, either.”
“She did that?”
“Yeah, she was there that night. You won’t remember — you were already unconscious when she arrived.”
Draven fell silent. He had plenty more questions, but lacked the energy to ask them, or deal with whatever the answers might be.
Cameron shifted uncomfortably. “Eleni wanted me to talk to you about what happens next, make sure you understand. That infection was bad. It was everywhere. It’s under control now, but it’s left you weak. Ideally, we’d let you heal and get your strength back before we withdraw the riptide, but Eleni says we can’t wait that long. You’re getting a steady dose through the IV right now, but your liver and your kidneys can’t take much more. Eleni wants to start the detox now.”
“And?”
“And… the withdrawal could kill you. You’re in lousy shape right now, and the amount of riptide we’re having to give you to keep the withdrawal symptoms under control is pretty damn close to lethal. If you want to live, we have to stop it now.”
“Do it,” he whispered, and tried not to let the fear show. It didn’t matter that most of his life had been a bitter struggle; Draven wasn’t ready to give it up. Not yet. He’d never been able to shake the belief that there was something better coming, and that he needed to be ready for it. It was probably just wishful thinking, but if, by some chance, it wasn’t…
“You’re sure? Eleni says… she says it won’t be pleasant.”
“I’ve seen riptide withdrawal before, Cameron. I know what I’m asking for. I… I want to live.”
A hand came down on his shoulder and squeezed. “Then we’ll do our best to see that you do.”
Draven closed his eyes, and time expanded and contracted, sometimes skipping by and sometimes dragging until he could almost feel the weight of every excruciating second.
The next time he woke, the crawling things were back. They’d invaded every empty space inside him, and now they were chewing him apart. His skin ruptured as they burst free, only to dive back in, drilling all the way down to his bones.
He burned and he froze, and through it all, the things kept coming, kept eating him alive. Desperate to get them off of him, he tried to brush them away, only to find his wrists were pinned.
When they started chewing through his eyes and into his brain, he screamed and screamed until they filled his mouth and every breath became a fight.
“Easy, easy. It’s okay. You’re hallucinating, Draven. None of it’s real.”
That voice riveted his attention, and he grabbed at it like a drowning man might clutch at a rope.
Get them off please get them off…
His mouth was full of them, and they were running down his throat and into his belly. He couldn’t form words, but he could suck in enough air to scream again.
He became aware of a warm pressure around his hand, as if someone was holding it and squeezing it gently.
“I’m sorry,” the voice said. “I’m sorry it has to be so goddamn awful. I asked about getting something to put you under for the worst of it, but Eleni says no. Your body can’t take any more drugs.”
He couldn’t answer, not even to beg for someone to end it.
“It was the same for me. They couldn’t put me out, either. Had to go through it. Trial by fire. Get through this, and we’ll knock back a few beers and compare hallucinations.”
Tremors rocked him, and he struggled to see, to breathe, to remember.
The hand squeezed again, and something brushed lightly across his forehead. Not sharp, rasping claws, but something warm and soft.
“It’ll be okay,” the voice whispered in his ear. “You can do this. You’re strong. You want to live. You wouldn’t have come to me if you didn’t.”
The voice was wrong. He wasn’t strong.
He was scared, and he hurt.
Draven shivered and tried not to feel the tiny claws dragging over his skin.
* * *
This had to be one of the longest nights Cam had ever spent. By the time the pearly grey light of dawn crept in through the curtains, Draven’s voice was all but gone. He was still trying to scream, but only a hoarse rush of air came out. Cam gripped his hand tightly, as he had for most of the night, trying to will some of his own strength into the man. Thankfully, he didn’t have to hold him down; he’d helped Eleni restrain him as soon as the pain had started.
Now, Draven was using the last of his strength to fight against the restraints. Flashes of his own nightmare memories had Cam sweating in sympathy. His own struggle with addiction might have been well over half a lifetime ago, but he remembered it vividly.
Remembered being a slave to the drug, doing whatever it took to get more. Remembered dragging himself up the narrow, dirty stairwell to that shitty apartment that was all he and Eleni could afford, tears blurring his vision, blood and filth soaking his jeans.
The wad of cash had felt like a lead weight in his pocket, and he’d known it wouldn’t be enough. Maybe enough to pay the rent, but not enough to keep the promises he’d made to Eleni: a hot meal in her belly, a new blanket for the mattress she slept on, that cute T-shirt with the pink frogs…
All the things she should have had, all the promises he meant to keep…
The bitter truth was that with every passing day, Eleni was becoming far less important than his next hit. Every promise he made eventually turned into riptide coursing through his veins.
“Cam?”
Eleni’s voice jerked him out of the past, and he blinked up at her. She was switching out the IV bag. His eyes traced the line of tubing down to the figure on the bed. Draven lay still for now, his breath a harsh rasp in a throat that had to be raw from screaming.
“You looked pretty far away,” Eleni said.
“I was in Paris. Thinking about that shitty little apartment we had after we got away from him.”
Eleni shook her head. “You still can’t call him Dad.”
“Angus McKinnon is my father. Eric Asada stopped being that when he started smacking you around.”
She gave him a tired smile. “You used to bait him so he’d leave me alone.”
“And you used to heal me after he beat the shit out of me. Fair trade, I’d say.” Her eyes met his, and he sensed the conflict within her, the things she wanted to say, but wouldn’t.
He could read her thoughts if he wanted. Eleni wasn’t a telepath or even an empath; she had no way to keep him out of her mind, and with the bond they shared, it would have been so easy. But he’d sworn, years ago, that he’d never violate her that way. Not her. She was his other half, the light to his darkness, and he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe and happy.
Eleni didn’t look very happy now. There were dark circles under her eyes and shadows deep inside them, and he was the one who’d put them there. She’d slept while he’d watched over Draven, but it didn’t look like it had been a restful sleep.
“How much longer is this going to go on?” Cam nodded toward Draven. “He’s still hallucinating, and he’s getting weaker.”
Eleni pushed straggling strands of auburn hair out of her eyes. “Not too much longer. A few hours, maybe. Then all he needs is rest.” She cocked her head, dark eyes fixing on him. “Have you thought about what comes next? Once he’s out of danger, I need to be back on campus. He’s not going to be strong enough to be left alone for a while. He’ll need help getting out of bed for at least a few days. And even then, he won’t be able to do much for himself. He needs plenty of rest, healthy food, and a stress-free environment.”
“Stress-free environment?” Cam shook his head and let out a tired bark of laughter. “If you figure out where I’m going to get that, let me know.”
“I’m serious, Cam. Do I need to schedule one of the nurses to come out here and stay with him until he’s strong enough to manage on his own?”
“No. I’m trying to involve as few people as possible. I’ll stay with him until he’s able to take care of himself. It might not be for too long, anyway. I want to get Jaana out here to take a look at him. If she can heal the psionic damage, then we won’t need to keep him isolated, and we can think about moving him someplace more secure.”
“You’re going to heal him?” Eleni’s voice was flat, her features hard as stone.
“What did you think we were going to do? We can’t give him Anarin.”
“No, we can’t. Not if he’s going to survive.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “How soon does he need to testify?”
“Does it matter?” he countered, neatly avoiding the question and another lie. “If we don’t heal his psi-centers, then everything we’ve done so far is for nothing, because as soon as he hits civilization, he’s back on riptide. Or Anarin.”
There was a long silence before she said coolly, “I’ll put together some instructions for you. If all goes well, you won’t be needing me after tomorrow.”
“Understood. And Eleni… thank you.”
Eleni gave him a dark look. “Know this, Cameron Dean: if he cuts a deal with FedSec and walks free, I’m going to be very disappointed. In the Charter for allowing it, and in you for being an accomplice to it.”
Cam didn’t have an answer for that. Not one Eleni would understand, anyway. He wasn’t even certain he understood.
* * *
All night, Draven’s mythe-shadow thrummed with the colors of tearing, searing pain, until Miko could barely stand another moment of it. He couldn’t sleep, not even after dragging his quilt into the corner. Pulling his own mythe-shadow in close made no difference, and he eventually gave up and turned his thoughts to Rafe.
If they’d been as close as Rafe claimed, why did Miko have no sense of it? Why couldn’t he feel Rafe’s thread? Maybe Rafe wasn’t remembering Miko at all. Maybe they were clones. Cloning was illegal in the Federation, but he and Rafe had come from the Colonial Alliance, and although some Alliance worlds had legal codes based on the Federation Charter, many didn’t.
The more he thought about it, the more sense it made.
Miko dipped into the net and began digging around. Somewhere, hidden deep within supposedly protected data structures, there would be a gene-matrix for Rafe Azziani. If he could find it, he could compare it to his own, see how similar they were. The files were easy enough to find, but when he tried to compare them, Miko realized he had no idea which differences were significant and which weren’t. He was going to have to ask someone for help.
When morning came, before he could change his mind, he grabbed the portable voice-synth unit and went straight to the infirmary. Eleni was out, taking care of Draven, but Damon was there, and Damon already knew about Rafe.
Damon looked up, surprise flickering through his mythe-shadow when he saw Miko waiting in his office doorway. “Miko,” he said with a warm smile. “I was just asking Luka about you at breakfast this morning. How are you holding up?”
Miko set up the voice-synth unit on Damon’s desk. “I’m all right, but I need help with something.”
“Okay… what can I do for you?”
Miko pulled the chair around the desk so he could sit next to Damon, then dipped into the net and set his own and Rafe’s gene-matrices side by side on the data screen on Damon’s desk. “I need to find out if these are from the same person, or if they’re relatives or… or something else.” Miko had copied the files and stripped out the meta-data that identified himself and Rafe, but from the worried frown wrinkling Damon’s brow, he’d already guessed whose they were.
“There’s an app that’ll run a comparison and tell us how closely related the two matrices are,” Damon said. “Do you want me to run it?”
Miko nodded.
Damon’s pale grey eyes met his. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
Damon’s fingers flew over the keyboard as he called up the app. It didn’t take long for the screen to fill with information. Damon studied the data, his frown deepening as his eyes traveled over the screen. “Okay… this is a little weird.”
“What?”
“It says here we’re looking at identical twins, male, mid-twenties… but… given the test dates and ages, there’s a two-year age difference. The guy on the right is two years older than the guy on the left. Has someone been messing with the data, do you think?”
“Maybe. Some of it came from a lab in the Alliance.” Ropes of cold slithered through Miko’s belly. Two years. The Mathilde had been missing for nearly two years.
Two years that apparently hadn’t passed for Miko.
Except…
Except they had. His memories of that time were vivid: Aio’s lessons in navigating the mythe; swimming and dancing with the dragons; and finally, the loss and desolation he’d experienced when Aio had told him he had to leave the mythe and go back to the human world.
“Miko… this is you and Rafe, isn’t it?”
Miko nodded. “Are you sure we’re twins and not… not clones?”
“I’m sure. You’re definitely not clones. There are markers we’d see in clones that aren’t present in these matrices. Do you… do you want me to call Cam? Or Kyn?”
“No. I’m all right. Thank you, Damon.”
He left before Damon could suggest anything else — like maybe a visit to Psych Services — but he felt Damon’s eyes on him as he slipped out, and guessed he hadn’t heard the last of it.
Damon would certainly say something to Luka if he was worried. And Luka would tell Kyn.
In his own office, Miko mulled over what he’d learned.
If he and Rafe were twins, that meant they were family.
Miko had almost hoped to learn that they were clones, because then Rafe might be remembering someone else, not him. Although the fact that Rafe remembered him talking about the dragons did, as Rafe had said, clinch it.
As if summoned by Miko’s thoughts, Rafe’s mythe-shadow, always an irritating presence at the edge of his awareness, flared through him, sharp and painful, oily and dark. The sense of wrongness was drawing closer, as if Rafe was approaching. Miko drew in his mythe-shadow and steeled himself, and moments later, there was a knock on the door.
Miko unlocked it, and Rafe walked in. His expression was neutral, but the set of his shoulders gave away his tension.
“Sorry to bother you,” Rafe said. “I needed to talk to you. Luka’s been handling my orientation, and we got to talking about instructor training. I was thinking that might be the best thing for me to do.”
Miko was only half paying attention. Now that he knew for certain that Rafe was his brother, he couldn’t stop himself from asking the question that had been burning in his mind ever since Rafe had mentioned the dragons. “What was I like? Were we the same?”
“No, we weren’t.” The tightness in Rafe’s shoulders loosened a little. “You saw things. Colors I didn’t have names for. Swirling lights everywhere, even when it was dark. And dragons. You saw dragons.”
“I still do.” Miko caught his lower lip between his teeth. What did Rafe think of the dragons? Did he think Miko was crazy, like so many other people did?
“You used to try to draw them for me.” Rafe’s eyes became distant, and the ghost of a smile played about his mouth. “You’d get so frustrated because you couldn’t make them look right. Then you tried to make mind-pictures to show me, but all they did was scare me.”
“I made pictures in your mind?” Miko couldn’t imagine being that close to any mind other than Tarrin’s.
“That was how we talked before we had words. And sometimes even after, because words weren’t always enough.” Rafe’s smile became harder, bitter. “When I was old enough to understand… I used to wonder sometimes if it was better that you’d died, because maybe you were crazy.”
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
Rafe’s black eyes were still distant, as if he was thinking hard, trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make Miko hurt and bleed. “I think,” Rafe said slowly, “that you see things the rest of us can’t. It makes it hard for you to relate to everyone else. But it doesn’t make you crazy. If everyone else was blind, and you were the only one who could see… they’d think you were nuts when you tried to describe seeing to them. Same thing.”
The relief that coursed through Miko surprised him. Why should it matter so much what Rafe thought? “Do you… do you know who our parents were?”
“No. There was nothing about them in the files they gave Romani when he bought me.” Another thing they had in common. Rafe knew what it was to be property. To be valued only in terms of what you could do for the one who owned you.
“I’m sorry I don’t remember.”
“Me, too,” Rafe murmured. “Hurts like hell to look at you and not be able to feel you. In some ways, it was easier when I thought you were dead.”
“It hurts me, too.” Miko stared down at the floor. “I feel the colors of pain dancing through your mythe-shadow.”
“I hate that we hurt each other. We used to be…” Rafe trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut briefly. “You were all I ever had that was good.”
Miko wrapped his arms tightly about himself. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. Finally, he settled on, “I wish I could remember.”
Rafe shot him a doubtful look. “Wouldn’t change anything. We’d still hurt each other.”
Miko didn’t say anything to that. There was nothing he could say, and nothing he could do.
* * *
Something was different.
Draven knew it long before he opened his eyes. The noise in his head and the pain tearing through his body were gone. So was the craving. And the things crawling over his skin… they were gone, too, thank God.
“Has he regained consciousness yet?” That was Cameron’s voice. The same voice that had threaded through the horror of the hallucinations, giving him something to focus on, a reason to hang on.
“Not really,” said a female voice. “He’s been stirring for the past hour, but he hasn’t opened his eyes yet. Jaana was here first thing this morning. I would have woken you if anything was wrong, but she said everything looks good. He’s shielding on his own. She wrote up a quick report and sent it to you before she left.”
There was a long pause before Cameron said, “How much longer will you be sticking around?”
“I’ll stay through the night, but in the morning, you’re flying me back to campus. He’s stable enough to be left for a few hours. I’ll come out in a couple of days to check on him, bring you any supplies you might need, but the rest of it is up to him.” She paused, then added, “I’m going to head downstairs and fix some lunch. I want you to eat something before you head out to the campus.”
“Thanks, Eleni.”
Light steps crossed the room, followed by the sound of a chair being pulled up next to the bed. Draven shifted a little, noting that his limbs were no longer strapped down. Dim memories of struggling against restraints flitted through his mind, along with nightmare visions of things scrabbling over his skin and filling his mouth…
He opened his eyes and waited for his vision to clear.
The room looked vaguely familiar, with walls of warm, golden wood. Cold winter light poured in through the window, and beyond the glass, bare black branches scraped an overcast sky.
“You’re safe,” Cameron’s voice said.
Draven turned his head, forced himself to meet tired, dark brown eyes. “Am I?” he whispered.
“Safe as I can make you, anyway. You’re in an isolated cabin north of the main campus of the Institute for Psionic Research. Only two other people know you’re here, and they’re both healers. I trust them to keep their mouths shut.”
He stretched slowly, testing his limbs. Nothing hurt. Not even his head. His mind was quiet, his shield intact and working exactly the way it should.
Cautiously, he adjusted his shielding pattern, letting the world in a little at a time. He sensed Cameron beside him: a solid core of responsibility, a touch of anxiety, a whisper of relief. Farther off was a cool, efficient mind dulled with fatigue and buzzing with worry.
“Who…?”
“My sister, Eleni. She’s the one who healed you.”
“Psi as well? I can shield.”
“That was Jaana, our mind-healer. She was here this morning. I just looked over her report. She said your psi-centers were damaged by psionic overload. She was able to… clear the channels and untangle the threads. That’s how she put it, anyway. She said as soon as she finished, you started shielding again, so she’s satisfied that everything’s working the way it should. And you’re through withdrawal. You won’t be needing riptide anymore.”
“I remember.” He couldn’t quite suppress the shudder. “Never touching that stuff again.”
“No.” A faint smile curved Cameron’s lips. “I didn’t imagine you would. I haven’t touched it since I was seventeen. One visit to hell is enough.” He picked up a water bottle full of green liquid. “Eleni says you need to drink this, and she wants you to try to eat something, too.” He gently worked the bottle’s straw between Draven’s lips without even asking.
Draven sucked down the stuff. It was cool at least, but tasted odd. Not the sort of thing he’d have chosen. He drank about half of it before pushing it away.
“Tell your sister thank you.”
“You can tell her yourself. She’s not leaving until tomorrow.”
“She’s good. As good as Trinian.”
“Who’s Trinian?”
“DeMira’s healer.”
“Ah.” Cameron nodded. “The one who healed you so DeMira could hurt you again.”
Draven froze. When had he…
The memory slammed into his mind, the impact so hard it took his breath away. Words pouring out of his mouth, words he’d never spoken before, painting pictures he’d never wanted anyone to see…
He’d shown those pictures to Cameron.
And Cameron had held him while he cried.
Other memories stirred. The way Cameron had taken care of him at the lodge, never leaving his side, even though it meant neglecting his responsibilities. The way he’d stayed with him through the worst of the pain and the hallucinations, his voice a lifeline that stopped Draven from drowning in the screaming nightmares in his head.
A hand came down on his shoulder. He didn’t flinch.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t know where he stood.
“What happens next?” he whispered, not daring to meet those dark eyes that had seen far too much. Cameron may not have been inside his head, but he might as well have been.
“You stay here and rest. Get your strength back. Eleni will be back to check up on you every few days.”
And Cameron? Would he come, too? Draven didn’t quite dare ask that. Instead, he said carefully, “And after that?”
“Then we’ll see. If you decide you want to stay, I might be able to find work for you.”
Draven did look at him then. “What kind of work?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Cameron said, but it was a lie. Draven could see it in his eyes. Cameron knew exactly what kind of work he had in mind.
“I could find out,” Draven told him.
“I know you could. But you won’t.” Cameron’s eyes met his, held his gaze.
“No. I won’t,” he whispered, and knew it was true. There was something between them now. Something that hadn’t been forged in fear or pain. Something Draven wasn’t sure he liked, but wasn’t sure he wanted to lose, either.
Cameron stood up to leave, and another memory stirred.
“Miko,” Draven whispered.
“What about him?”
“I met someone… on Lyra. Someone who was looking for him.”
Cameron sighed and sat down again. “Someone meaning Rafe Azziani?”
“How did you—?”
“He’s at the campus. He found Miko. Or I should say, Miko found him. They’re brothers. Twins.”
“Did you verify his story?”
“I did.” Cameron tapped his head. “Right after he asked me for protection from Alan Romani.”
The tightness eased a little, letting him breathe freely. “And Miko?”
A shadow crossed Cameron’s face. “He’s… remote and inscrutable. As always. I think Rafe’s appearance has upset his sense of balance. He said… he said it wasn’t in the Pattern, and he can’t see Rafe’s thread. He doesn’t remember Rafe, but Rafe remembers him.”
“Can I see him? Miko, I mean.”
“I don’t see why not. He knows you’re here, and he’s been worried about you. I’ll see what I can do.” Cameron got to his feet. Draven didn’t stop him this time. Surprised at how much the short conversation had exhausted him, he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.
* * *
It was already dark when Cam got back to the cabin, where he found Eleni in the kitchen, preparing dinner. She was humming to herself as she worked, probably looking forward to getting back to the campus and Trevor. Guilt gnawed at him. He hadn’t meant to involve her at all, especially not to this extent.
“Have I mentioned how much I appreciate you doing this?” he asked as he hung up his coat.
“A couple of times. How are things back on campus?”
“Tense. Have you heard the latest from Alpha?”
“No, I’m afraid I haven’t had the time or the energy to keep up with current events.” She sounded tired. That was his fault, too.
Cam dragged a hand through his hair as he sank down on a kitchen chair. “It only hit the news nets this morning. More rioting. The Alpha Senate has promised to pass an emergency resolution to protect the public from psions.”
Eleni paused, knife poised over the onions she was chopping, and turned to look at him, dark eyes wide. “What kind of resolution?”
“No word on that yet, but I’m sure we’ll be hearing about it when the next data-dump hits Aurora Station.”
She set the knife down and wiped her hands. “What can they do? Realistically, I mean. It takes a psion to pick another psion out of a crowd.”
Cam shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to know. Kyn’s not happy. He’s made it very clear that he wants me back on campus.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Eleni said. “Trevor mentioned the other day that he’s wound pretty tight.”
“I know.” He hated leaving so much on Kyn’s shoulders. Hated even more that he couldn’t explain why.
“He also said Pat’s worried about him, and has been asking where the hell you are and why you’re never in your office.”
“Yeah. He’s been sending me messages every few hours asking me what the hell I’m working on that can’t be done on campus. How long do you think it’ll be before Draven’s strong enough to be left on his own?”
“A week, maybe?”
“That long?”
“Yes, and that’s just for basic self-care. If you were asking when he’d be fit to return to work, I’d tell you a month at least, and that’s only if you’re talking about a desk job. Doing the sort of thing he does… two or three months. Maybe more. Depends on how hard he’s willing to work.”
“Can you… speed up the process?”
Eleni shot him a sour look. “I could.”
“Would you?”
“Only if you can give me a damn good reason why I should.”
“Ah.” Cam stared down at the floor. “I won’t ask, then.”
“Best not.” She turned back to her dinner preparations. “You’ve already pushed your luck about as far as it’ll go.”
“I do appreciate it, Eleni. More than I can tell you.”
Eleni kept her back to him, but she shook her head, and Cam could imagine her rolling her eyes, as well. “Make yourself useful and take some crackers and broth up to your patient. He needs to get started on solid food again.”
“My patient?”
“Your patient, and your problem, after tonight.” Eleni cocked her head, frowning and glancing up, and a moment later, Cam heard the drone of an approaching flyer. “Jaana?”
“Not at this time of night,” he said grimly, and extended his psi-senses to sweep the area. “Pat. Shit.”
Eleni wiped her hands on a towel and said, “I’ll take care of Draven. If this is FedSec business, then you won’t want me around. I’ll finish making dinner when you’re done.”
Cam poured two mugs of coffee, then sat back down at the kitchen table and tried to organize his thoughts. He heard the flyer circle and come in for a landing in the clearing near the cabin.
It wasn’t long before Pat came through the door. He stamped the snow off of his boots, hung up his coat with deliberate care, and turned to face Cam, fixing him with a penetrating stare.
“You’ve got some explaining to do, Asada.”
Cam took a long swallow of coffee. He’d need it; Pat was sharp, and this could easily blow up in his face if it wasn’t handled very carefully. “Who ratted me out?”
“Nobody,” Pat said, taking a seat opposite him. “I followed you.”
Cam pushed the second mug of coffee across the table to Pat, who picked it up a took a sip. “You followed me?”
“This disappearing act you keep pulling is not like you. Especially with everything going on right now. What the hell, Cam? You’re hiding Draven?”
It had been too much to hope that Pat might have forgotten the feel of Draven’s mind. Pat had been the arresting agent, after all. He’d been furious when Draven had managed to escape FedSec custody.
Before Cam could respond, Pat continued, “Imagine my surprise to discover you harboring a wanted criminal. Imagine my further surprise to discover there’s nothing in the FedSec database on the guy. No record of his arrest, nothing connecting him with Jared Vidal’s death, which, by the way, was apparently logged as friendly fire. My arrest report has vanished, as have any records mentioning Draven’s presence and subsequent disappearance from a high-security FedSec medical facility. Miko’s doing, was it?”
“Is this off the record? Or on?”
Pat scowled. “Off, damn you.”
“Then yes, that was Miko. You can ask him about it if you want, but you’ll get the same kind of answer you usually do when Miko’s involved.”
“The Pattern.”
“Yep.”
Pat stared down into his mug. “Do you even know how many laws you’re breaking?”
“I’ve… got a pretty good idea.”
“You’re putting me in a really difficult position, Cam. We’re both witnesses to Vidal’s death. We both know Draven pulled the trigger. My word is enough to haul him in for questioning, and if we pump him full of Veritane, I know I can get a conviction.” Pat lifted tired, shadowed eyes to meet Cam’s. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t arrest him right now.”
“Because I’m asking you not to.”
“Because you’re asking… Asking me as what? The director of the Institute? Or…?” Pat’s expression remained neutral, but Cam flinched at the intensity of the anger and betrayal lashing through the air between them.
“As a man who’s trying to do his job,” Cam said flatly.
He probably deserved the look of disbelief Pat shot him. “How delusional do you think I am?”
“I don’t think you’re delusional. I just need you to… can you trust me on this? Just… back off, and let me do what needs to be done.”
“You’re going to have to give me something more than that. I can nail him for Jared’s death right fucking now. I was there, and so were you and Kyn and Alek. So I ask you again: give me one reason why I shouldn’t arrest him. Or you, for that matter.”
“Miko.”
“Miko.” Pat sounded weary. “Of course. And I’m supposed to just forget about everything Draven’s done to our people. Rhys. Alek. Luka. Damon.”
“I’m not insensitive to that. That’s why I didn’t bring him back to the campus, even though he needed medical attention. Eleni’s been out here with me for the past few days busting her ass to save him.”
“Save him for what?” Pat’s voice had gone dangerously calm.
“I’m… not entirely sure yet,” Cam admitted.
Hard brown eyes met his. “Can you at least tell me why you would risk your career to help him? Is it because he helped you on Alpha, and you feel like you owe him?”
“Partly. When he helped me and Miko escape, I told him… I told him if he ever needed a place to stay or to hide… to contact me at the Institute.”
Pat’s eyes narrowed. “You said partly. What’s the rest of it?”
Cam let out a long breath. “Given what’s happening on Alpha… what might be happening here, once word gets out… I think if we can get him back on his feet, I can put him to work. If he’s interested.”
“Put him to… Cam, what the hell? Put him to work as what?”
“I have a few ideas.”
“You can’t trust him,” Pat said, shaking his head.
“I never said I did. But… Draven is like a feral dog. Feed him, give him a safe place to sleep and something to believe in, and maybe I can make him my feral dog.”
“I don’t know why you’re bothering. You’ll never be able to trust him.”
“Because I can see what’s coming, Pat. Can’t you? I think I might need someone like Draven around in the near future. Now, are you going to help me or are you going to arrest me?”
There was a long silence before Pat scowled and said, “The last thing the Institute needs right now is a change in leadership. And the last thing I want for Kyn is to have to step into your shoes at a time like this. I won’t help you. I can’t. But I won’t turn you in, either.”
“Thank you,” Cam said, shoulders finally loosening.
“Not so fast, Asada. There’s a condition. If you’re going to harbor a criminal out here, I want him under guard. You have a job to do back at the Institute. And with Neil gone, you’re needed there now more than ever.”
“Who do you have in mind?”
“Someone who can’t be manipulated psionically,” Pat said flatly.
“Kyn?”
Pat nodded. “I trust him completely, and he’s ex-military, so I know he can handle himself.”
“He was there when Draven shot Jared,” Cam said.
“Yes, he was. But I trust him to be able to put that aside. And to be frank, I don’t know who else I can ask.”
“If Kyn can do the job without being an ass about it, then I’ll agree to it,” Cam said.
Pat shot him an unreadable look. “Why do you even care?”
“Because if I do decide to put him to work, Draven needs to know that he can trust me to protect him. That’s part of the deal.”
“I’ll make sure Kyn understands that.”
“Make sure you mention Miko,” Cam suggested. “Kyn would do anything for Miko.”
“You’re a manipulative bastard, Asada. I understand that Neil appreciates your… initiative. And I know how much you trust Miko. But this is so far out of the goddamn box…” He raked a hand through his hair. “Just make sure you don’t lose sight of the box entirely, okay?”
“I’ve never lost sight of it, Pat. Not for a moment.”
Pat held his gaze for a long time before finally looking away. “I’ll have Kyn out here first thing in the morning.”
* * *
Draven was wide awake when the cabin door slammed. The bang was followed by the sound of a flyer engine powering up and the craft lifting off. When the buzz of the engines had faded into the distance, he heard quiet steps on the stairs, and then Cameron stuck his head around the door.
“You okay by yourself for a little longer?” Cameron asked. “I want to grab a shower.”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Cameron nodded. “I won’t be long.”
As he listened to the sound of running water, Draven’s skin itched with the need to get clean. He dimly remembered being given a sponge bath at some point, but he’d been drifting in and out of consciousness at the time, and that had to have been several days ago.
When Cameron came back, dressed in clean clothing and toweling damp hair, Draven blurted out, “Can I have a shower, too?”
Cameron stopped rubbing his hair and considered that. “Bath,” he decided. “You’re not strong enough to stand in the shower for that long, and Eleni would kill me if you slipped and cracked your head open. She left a little while ago.”
“I thought she was staying the night.”
“She was, but… Pat Cottrell followed me out here. She hitched a ride back with him.”
Draven froze. Was Cottrell going to haul him in for questioning? Maybe Cameron had lied. Maybe he’d only taken care of him so he could turn him over to his FedSec masters whole and ready for interrogation. “The FedSec director?” he asked carefully.
“Yeah.” Cameron sighed and tossed the towel aside. “He recognized you. Your psionic signature, anyway.”
“And?” Draven’s heart pounded in his chest, so loud Cameron had to be able to hear it.
“I told him Miko said helping you was important. Miko’s got a lot of credit with him at the moment. He’ll keep quiet. He wasn’t happy about it, but he won’t turn you in. Or me.”
“You? But—”
“He threatened to arrest us both. After I talked him down, he laid down some conditions.”
Draven licked his lips. Cameron had stood up for him? To a FedSec director? “What kind of conditions?”
“He wants you under guard. He’s sending somebody out tomorrow.”
“Somebody?”
“Kyn Valdari. He’s my assistant director. He’s psi null, so Pat figures he’ll be safe enough.”
“Psi null? I don’t… what does that mean?”
“Means you won’t sense him. Even if you’re standing right next to him. It’ll be okay. Kyn’s a good guy. And with all that’s going on right now, I really do need to be back at the office. People are starting to ask questions.”
“Ah.” He tried not to let his disappointment show. Of course Cameron had other duties. Duties that he’d neglected badly in order to keep Draven alive.
“We still have to work out a schedule, but I’m thinking Kyn can work from here in the day, and I’ll spend the nights here so he doesn’t have to be away from Pat for days at a time. It’ll work out.”
Draven wasn’t so sure about that. He’d never met Kyn, had no idea how the man would feel about being handed guard duty over a criminal.
“I’ll go run that bath for you.”
Cameron disappeared into the adjoining bathroom, and Draven heard the water running.
By the time Cameron had the tub filled, Draven had managed to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. It had taken far more effort than he’d expected. His whole body hurt, every muscle aching and burning. He must have strained every one of them while he’d struggled during withdrawal.
When he tried to stand, he went right back down onto the bed. Cameron had to help him to the bathroom and steady him while he stripped out of the loose gown. With Cameron’s help, he stepped into the tub. A little moan of pleasure slipped out as Cameron eased him down into the hot water.
“Yeah, I’ll bet that feels good.” Cameron grinned as he handed Draven a soft washcloth. “Soap there, shampoo right there. Do what you can, and I’ll be back in a few minutes to give you a hand with anything you can’t manage. I’m just going to strip the bed and put fresh sheets on it. I don’t know about you, but the thought of getting back into a dirty bed when I just got clean makes me itch all over.”
“Me, too,” he murmured, smiling without even thinking about it. “Thank you.”
“Yell if you need anything. I’ll be right outside the door.”
Cameron left him alone with the door cracked open, and Draven set to scrubbing every last trace of sweat and sickness from his skin. The hot water felt good. It wasn’t long before the heat soaked into his stiff, aching muscles and began to loosen them up.
He wasn’t able to do nearly as much for himself as he’d hoped. His shoulders were too stiff and sore for him to reach his back. Cameron returned and washed his back for him without being asked. When he’d finished, he set the washcloth down and reached for the shampoo bottle. “Want me to wash your hair for you?”
Draven glanced up at him from beneath lowered lashes. “Please.”
Cameron scooped up some water in a small plastic jug and poured it over his hair, using his hand to keep it from running over his face. Strong fingers smoothed the shampoo into Draven’s hair, and he shivered with pleasure as they worked through the tangled mess, rubbing his scalp. Draven closed his eyes and leaned into the touch without even thinking about it, and Cameron didn’t seem to be in a hurry.
It didn’t last nearly long enough. Soon, Cameron was rinsing the shampoo out and gently working a comb through the wet, black tangles.
By the time he was shaved, dried, and dressed in a clean T-shirt and a pair of boxers that hung much too loosely on his hips, Draven was exhausted. It was worth it, though, to feel properly clean for the first time since he’d left Alpha. He had to lean heavily on Cameron to get back to the bed. They took it slow, and the sight of fresh, crisp sheets topped with clean blankets already turned down for him was enough to bring a lump to his throat.
Cameron helped him into bed and pulled the blankets up over his shoulders. “There’s fresh water here.” He gestured to the water bottle on the bedside table. “Do you want anything else? Something to eat, maybe? Eleni said you did okay with the broth and crackers. I can heat up some soup if you want. There’s homemade chicken noodle in the freezer.”
Draven’s stomach growled at the thought of it, and Cameron laughed, dark eyes crinkling at the corners.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
After Cameron left, Draven settled back against the pillows, enjoying the feel of clean sheets against clean skin while he contemplated the things Cameron had said.
Miko must have a great deal of credit with these people, if his word was enough to influence a FedSec director. Had it been Miko’s word that had made Cameron drop everything to help him? Or was Cameron simply keeping the promise he’d made on Alpha?
No… that didn’t balance. What Draven had done for Cameron on Alpha was nothing compared to what Cameron had done — was still doing — for him.
What kind of debt was he racking up?
And what kind of payment would be demanded?