Adrenaline races through my veins as Renner’s hands death-grip mine. It’s painful, but I’ll take too-tight over too-loose. We fly through the air, spotlight trailing, as the song nears the end.
“Just hold on,” I say.
Our locked gaze feels like a lifeline—perhaps for both of us. Veins pop in his neck as blood rushes to his head.
“We’re almost done,” I say, hoping it’s true.
I’ve worked with my crew for over a year now, and they know what they’re doing. Renner is a completely new addition to my act, but this isn’t so far from my usual performance that they can’t catch up.
Our swing has slowed dramatically without my legs moving as a counterweight, and I feel the slight hitch as the bar descends right on time.
Renner gasps. “What was that?”
“They’re lowering us to the ground.”
“Oh. Good.”
“What? No snide remark or flirtatious innuendo?”
“Get back to me when my feet are on the floor.”
I tamp down my humor. “Remember, this is a performance. You’ve got to make it look good when we get down.”
“Yeah. Just one question.” His face turns crimson, and I check to see how far we have to go. “Exactly how am I supposed to get down?”
“I’ll drop, then you’ll grasp the bar and move into a pike position. Bring your legs down between your arms and the bar, then let go. It’s simple.”
“You call that simple?”
Some of his snark is returning. Oh, joy. “You’re strong. You’ll figure it out.”
“Oh, so you did notice my muscles.”
I let go and land on the floor in a flourish of swirling black. I do a spin, and when I’m done, I extend a hand toward Renner. He’s still hanging on to the bar, trying desperately to get his legs through his arms. He may be muscled, but he needs to work on his flexibility.
“Hurry up,” I whisper shout through my overly brilliant smile.
“I’m trying,” he huffs. It looks like he’s about to give up, and I’m mentally scrambling to figure out a way to cover him when I hear him mutter, “For all that’s good in the Verse.”
He pulls himself up, arms bulging, and when he lets go, he somehow manages to do a half-flip, half-twist to land next to me on his knees.
He reaches for me, and our eyes lock. Then, so deliberately I think time has slowed, he kisses my palm. The feather soft touch of his lips sends a tingle up my arm, and the lights go out.
“That was dramatic.” I draw in air through my nose and quickly yank free from him. “Hurry, stand up. We have to take a bow.”
I hear a grunt followed by a groan, and he’s standing next to me. “My knees may never be the same.”
“Smile,” I command as the lights come up. I reach for his hand and thrust our entwined fingers into the air. Then we take a bow. At least he’s good at this part. He grins and waves as if he’s been doing this all his life, but when we rotate toward section A1, I go numb.
Most of the men in his unit are cheering and clapping as if they’ve enjoyed the show immensely, but one man sits with his arms crossed. He’s staring a hole through Renner.
“Come on.” I pull him to the exit.
We have to get out of the spotlight. The holomask should conceal him from facial recognition, but what if it wasn’t enough?
When we reach the door, I glance back, but the man is looking away. My muscles relax. I must have misread his look. Perhaps he was dragged here by his unit and hates the circus. I turn around just as the door closes and reach to disengage the holomask at Renner’s temple.
His wide smile is waiting. “That was wild.” His enthusiasm is electric, and buzzes something to life in me.
“You guys were out of this Verse!” A stagehand is beaming at us with clasped hands under her chin, dark brown curls bouncing back and forth.
“Definitely like the change up,” another hand says.
There’s a small crew backstage to help performers get on and off at the right times, and they’re all clapping enthusiastically. It’s overwhelming.
When I first started performing, it was always like this, everyone amazed and more than a little terrified at what I did every night, but it’s been cycles since anyone who’s part of the show has reacted like this.
“Talie. Renner. A word.”
Delmar. My blood turns to ice.
“Uh oh. We’re in trouble.” Renner’s easy grin opposes his words.
I extract my fingers from his and follow the ringmaster through a side door into his stage-office. It’s cluttered with datapads for every aspect of every act, props that need fixing or updating, and a chair with so many costumes piled on top, it looks like a mound of Zerias crystals threw up on a rainbow. Delmar won’t need to announce until after Gemma and Maxon’s act, so I know we have at least fifteen minutes. Hopefully it won’t take him long to chew me out for bringing Renner into the act.
“Look, Delmar, I’m sorry, but—”
“That was excellent!”
I’m stunned to silence.
“Wasn’t it?” Renner picks up a fake red nose made of plastice. He frowns and puts it back on the desk. “I thought the last part was probably the best.”
“Your dismount could use some work,” Delmar says flatly, giving him a sharp look, “But I’ll admit I haven’t seen that much passion from you in a long time, Talie.”
My cheeks flame.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were doing the act together?” Delmar turns an inquisitive eye on me, and I know he’s asking more than what his words imply.
My only thought had been to help Renner, but have I put the Phenomena at risk in some way? The holomask is a precaution but not strictly necessary for me. Had I misjudged its necessity?
“We wanted it to be a surprise.” Renner places his arm around my shoulders.
My body betrays me, and I lean against him. My thoughts replay our kiss, his lips fire under mine.
It was a distraction, nothing more. I pull away.
“That it was.” Del moves to a chair behind the desk and brings his computer to life with a touch. “But it was a good show. Very good. And it fits within the story line better than I could have planned.”
I should be happy right now, smiling that our impromptu act was a success, but all I can think of is the reality that I can never kiss Renner again. Of all that is good in the galaxy, why does this thought bother me so much?
“Thanks.” Renner looks my way. “We thought so.”
I doubt he has any clue what the show’s story is, and that’s when I realize he is exceptionally good at deception.
“Good.” Delmar rubs his hands together and then types with a flurry of fingers. “I’ll have the art department work on a new poster. The Soaring Starress and her Captain.”
Her captain? The words drench me like a bucket of ice water.
“But—”
Delmar gives me a look over his screen. “It’s good to share some of the spotlight, Talie.” I know what he’s not saying. Less focus on me isn’t a bad thing, but doesn’t he realize Renner isn’t here for long? “I’d like you to include Renner in more of the act. I know you’re the center of it, but see what you can do to incorporate him. Nothing out of his skill range,” he’s sure to point out. “I’ll give you double gym time this week during travel.”
“Uh,” Renner’s jaw is tense from attempting to mask his surprise. “That’s…great.”
Delmar’s too wrapped up in his own plans to notice. “This is good. Just what the show needs. Now, off you two go. Remember, double time this week. I’ll make sure Maxon figures it out with your cleaning schedule, Renner.”
“Oh, thanks.” There’s no missing the sarcasm.
Renner follows me back into the hallway, leaving Delmar to his scheming. The door slides shut behind us, but I can’t move. This wasn’t what I expected.
Renner is now part of my act. My act.
I’ve been the Soaring Starress for five cycles now. Aside from the level of difficulty I tackle, part of what makes me unique is that I do the act alone. My timed bars took special engineering and are part of the perceived danger. Not to mention it’s the one thing I have control over. Well, had control over.
I meet his gaze and see something I wasn’t expecting. Hesitation.
“What?” My frustration seeps out.
“I guess I’m going back up there, huh?”
“Looks like it.” I twist my braid through my fingers and start down the hallway, but he pulls me to a stop.
“Talie, wait. I…” His brow furrows. “I didn’t plan this, you know.”
“Right.” I believed him before, but the photo of the princess fills my memory. Was he hiding from the guard unit because he’s deserting, or is there another reason? One that could bring my friends and me into danger?
I turn back down the hallway.
“Talie, hold on. Stars, you’re fast for someone so short.” He pulls me into an alcove with a floor to ceiling viewport overlooking Drawx. “Just wait a minute, will you?”
“What?” I cross my arms and dip my head. I just want to go back to my room, take a hot bath, and forget the events of tonight. Especially the kiss that still sears my memory.
“I’m sorry.”
I look up at him through my lashes.
“Really. I know everything you did tonight was to help me, and”—he rubs at the back of his neck—“I probably don’t deserve it.”
“Probably?”
He laughs, and I can’t help but soften a fraction.
“Okay, I definitely don’t deserve it. I know I dragged you into all of this.” He frowns and looks out the viewport, lifting a hand to press against the sio-glass before he drops it to look back at me. “I hope you know I appreciate everything you’ve done. It’s your act, and I’m sure you don’t want me ruining it. Why don’t I talk to Delmar and see if he’ll change his mind?”
I’m waiting for the wisecrack, but it doesn’t come.
“I am truly sorry,” he adds.
The repeated apology softens me even more. “It’s…okay. And don’t talk to Del.” I draw in a calming breath. “When he sets his mind to something, it’s done.”
“Only if you’re sure.”
“I am.” I nail him with a look. “But it’s going to take hard work to get the act right. Do you think you can do it?”
“I can try.” He flexes his fingers.
“You did do fairly well tonight,” I concede.
“Yeah right. I felt like a giant flouse swinging up there.”
“No, it’s true,” I say past my laugh as I picture the overweight, four-legged creature swinging on a fly bar. “I don’t know many people who would have done what you did. I mean, I did shove you off a thirty-meter-high platform in near darkness.”
“How about we never speak of the height again?” He offers a shaky laugh.
“Please don’t tell me you’re a soldier who’s afraid of heights?”
His eyes darken, and the mood shifts. “We can’t all be the Soaring Starress, Le’è.”
I sense the change in him. We stand close, hidden in this alcove. The reflected light from Drawx highlights half of Renner’s face, and a warning klaxon goes off in the back of my mind. He might have impressed me during the show tonight, but I’m merely the means to his escape. Nothing more.
“I’d better go.” I start to move away, but he grabs my wrist. His warm fingers ground me as I search his expression for an answer. To what question, I’m not sure.
“Talie.” The hesitation is back. “I have something I need to tell you—”
“Renner,” Maxon barks, startling us both. “Time to pull your head from the stars, Fly Boy. Clean up, stall four.”
“Duty calls.” He gives me a rueful look then shrugs, something like relief flashing before he schools his features.
My eyes follow him, and I wonder what he might have told me. The truth? Or some crafted version of it meant to make me feel like I was in his confidence.
He turns, catching my gaze. “Until tomorrow.”
I nod, uncomfortable with how his statement makes me both excited and terrified. Renner Cartha, the runaway soldier, is much easier to ignore than Renner Cartha, the boy who caught me in midair.