Ilsa reclaimed her gun from Abigail's security detachment, then handed over her visitor's badge. She assumed Kai would do the same, but Ilsa was already hurrying for the lifts, moving as quickly as she could without looking like she was running from a crime scene. She knew Kai was following despite the silence permeating the hall. She trusted that he would be at most a step behind her. The scant few employees they'd passed on their way in were long gone, warned off or scared away by the ruckus.
She stubbornly didn't speak as she and Kai navigated the building. Behind her, Kai kept equally quiet.
On the ground floor, at the front doors with their fractured-looking panes of colored glass, Ilsa paused and gave Kai a wordless once-over. Her eyes ran him up and down, checking for blood or any other evidence of the ordeal they'd just walked away from. The thorough sweep of his eyes told her Kai was returning the favor, and a moment later, the tiny shake of his head confirmed that she was clear. Ilsa tucked her gun out of sight and stepped forward, triggering the door, then strode stiffly across the threshold.
It wasn't raining anymore.
They walked three blocks before waving down a cab, then asked the driver to take a circuitous path back to their hostel. Seated and finally still, Ilsa could feel excess adrenaline turning sour beneath her skin. Her limbs, already shaky, trembled fiercely in the cool cab.
Kai was restless in the seat beside her. She could sense a familiar protectiveness in his posture, and in the way he kept throwing her furtive glances. At the slightest invitation, he would slip an arm about her shoulders and tuck her against his side. He'd done it a hundred times before, in situations far less overwhelming than this.
Normally Ilsa would welcome the reassurance of contact. This time she kept her expression stiff, her shoulders tight, broadcasting without words that she didn't want to be touched. Kai eventually subsided, slouching into his seat with a look of defeat.
Unexpected anger brushed behind Ilsa's ribs as she observed Kai in her peripheral vision. This wasn't anger at Dantes or at the betrayal that had almost gotten them killed. This was a subtler upset that nagged at her, and it took her several blocks to decipher where the feelings were coming from.
She was angry at Kai. For kissing her. For putting the offer of something more complicated than friendship between them and making Ilsa doubt a closeness she had never wanted to question.
Ilsa wanted Kai's arm around her shoulder, damn it. She wanted the tangible assurance that he was whole and unhurt. She wanted to accept comfort in the wake of the ugliness they were putting behind them. And she was angry at Kai for making her question what should have been the simplest and most natural gesture between them.
By the time they reached the building they had checked into with Dantes, Ilsa was ready to crawl out of her own skin. She settled for disembarking the cab and leaving Kai to pay the fare, making her way into the building before he had finished. She gathered her things quickly. They wouldn't be staying here a second longer than necessary, and Ilsa collected her data screens and what few sundries she had unpacked, tucking them all securely in her rucksack. Her gun she kept at the ready. She slipped it into the left pocket of her long coat, though she prayed she wouldn't need to use it.
She found Kai waiting patiently in the hall. He had donned his well-worn jacket, and his own bag sat propped against one foot.
"I already checked us both out of our rooms," he said. He sounded less certain when he added, "I told them to contact Roy Vis Medica about Dantes's suite. It didn't seem right to evict a dead man, and I thought Abigail might want his things." Unlikely as the possibility was, Ilsa knew Kai had made the right choice. Eleazar Dantes had never been their responsibility. It wasn't their job to see to his belongings now that he was gone.
They found a new place to stay, and Ilsa prayed it would only be for one night. This hostel was cheaper, smaller, and practically on top of the main port terminal at the edge of Cita Miri. Ilsa wanted to put Praxica VI and this city behind her as quickly as possible.
She barely paused to toss her bag into her new room before turning right back around and heading for the stairs. Kai hesitated beside his own door and gaped at her with obvious alarm.
"You can't go back out there now." He took a step as though to follow her, but fell still when he thought better of pursuit. "We don't know if Dantes has other allies in the city. We could have been followed."
"I don't care." Ilsa stopped only with reluctance. She was jittery, and the thought of entombing herself in some tiny rented room made her hands clench into fists so tight her nails dug into her palms. "I'm going to go book us the first available passenger transport out of this system." She wouldn't be particular about the destination, either.
"You can do that from right here," Kai pointed out, and he sounded entirely reasonable. Only the faint crease between his brows gave any hint of the concern Ilsa could read below his calm surface.
"I'd rather do it in person. Cash is more difficult to trace."
"Then I'll come with you." Again Kai moved as if to follow, but this time it was Ilsa's curt reply that stopped him short.
"No."
Kai froze in genuine surprise. "No?"
"No," Ilsa repeated. The narrow hall was suddenly stifling. All she wanted was open air and a few minutes truly alone. Ironic that to achieve what she needed she intended to bury herself in the noisy crowds of the planet's largest port. She leveled a stubborn look at Kai, and her words were too hard to be mistaken for a suggestion when she said, "You can stay here and file our invoice with Roy Vis Medica. I'll be back before you can blink."
The furrow at the center of Kai's brow deepened. "It's not safe to travel alone right now. What if—"
"I don't care," Ilsa snapped, louder this time. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, drew a deliberate breath through her nose. Her temper was fraying around the edges, and the last thing she wanted was to let careless words damage the already uncertain balance between herself and Kai. When she finally spoke again, she sounded calmer, if barely. "I need to take a walk. Alone. I'm armed, remember? And if anyone is looking for us, they'll expect us to lay low. There's no way anyone will anticipate an in-person appearance at the main terminal."
Kai didn't look entirely convinced, but he subsided at last. When Ilsa turned once more to retreat, he let her go without protest.
The sky was clear when Ilsa stepped out of the hostel. There were only a handful of people on the narrow street that cut between buildings toward the main thoroughfare. Clusters of storm clouds lingered at the very edge of the horizon, but directly above, Ilsa saw only vibrant blue and squinting sunlight. The calm arch of unblemished sky.
Normally such a view would have settled Ilsa in her own skin.
Then again, normally she wouldn't be taking in the sight with one hand inside her pocket, the cool of gunmetal brushing her fingers. The ground was rough pavement, patched up one too many times and in desperate need of a do-over. A mess of puddles lay scattered along her path, and Ilsa took her time navigating around and between. Her meandering path kept her boots mostly dry, even as she kept a wary eye on her surroundings. The narrow street widened as she walked, the buildings growing shorter as she neared the port terminal with its expansive airfields. There was noise and life, but none of the crowds were heavy enough to make Ilsa anxious. Sporadic as they were, it would be difficult for someone to sneak up on her unnoticed.
Foot traffic grew denser as the spaces between buildings widened, and eventually the expanding road emptied onto the massive street that led directly to the terminal. Ch'Miraus translated roughly to 'Central Avenue'. Predictable but effective. There were shuttle pods and hovering cabs and a dozen other transports for hire, all of them eager to help shorten the distance. Ilsa bypassed them all and walked the length of Ch'Miraus on foot.
She returned the same way once her business was done, barely noticing the quiet ache of her tired feet as the road gradually narrowed. By the time she caught sight of the hostel's drab facade, the sun was setting fiercely behind it. Clear sky burned itself into violent pinks and oranges along the horizon, darkening to wild bruises higher above. The building before her didn't look quite so ugly in silhouette as it had only a couple of hours before.
Ilsa took the lift to her floor and stepped into the hall on tired legs.
She froze at the sight of Kai sitting outside her door. His posture was loose. He sat with his knees tucked to his chest and his arms crossed on top of them. He looked like he'd been slouched there the entire time Ilsa had been gone. Waiting for her to come back.
Ilsa gaped, rigid with surprise. The cautious expression on Kai's face when he turned his head did nothing to dull the wariness creeping through Ilsa's blood.
"What are you doing out here?" She took a forward step, then another, one foot in front of the other until she was standing immediately before him. She was close enough now to trip if he stretched his legs across the narrow corridor. She couldn't fathom what he was doing in the hall. Privacy was a concept they hadn't held to for years. It wasn't them.
Except maybe it was now. Maybe it had to be. With an awkward jolt, Ilsa realized there was only one topic that would make Kai behave like this, and she wished she could take her question back. Too late, though. Kai was already answering.
"I wanted to finish that conversation we've been putting off." There was no mistaking what conversation he meant. His gaze held her frozen as he regarded her from the ground, his eyes flashing with tenuous hope and heat and far too much intensity. Ilsa swallowed past a throat gone suddenly tight.
It was shitty timing, but she could hardly fault him for it. They had both almost died today.
"Come inside." Ilsa stepped past him to manually key her access code into the panel beside the door. She could hear a rustle of fabric as Kai rose to his feet behind her. She stepped inside, and Kai followed on her heels. The room was dark, but it brightened automatically, casting a sedate glow across the cramped space. There were no windows to showcase the impressive sunset. Ilsa would have preferred windows. Open sky.
She would have to make do without them for one night.
There was only one chair in the room, and Ilsa made no move to sit in it. She crossed the narrow floor instead, towards the far wall where a squat little bureau sat wedged between the bed and the bathroom door. When she turned around to face Kai, she found him standing uncertainly in the middle of the room.
Ilsa crossed her arms and quirked an expectant eyebrow. She was genuinely surprised he didn't speak first. "What do you want, Kai?" she asked before the silence could grow too heavy to break.
Kai gave a foundering shrug. "I get that you're not thrilled with me, and I'm sorry I made things weird between us. I just want to know what's going on inside your head right now."
"Inside my head?" Ilsa gaped, painfully aware of an uninvited tightness gripping her chest. Disbelief caught and held her. If anyone's behavior had taken a confusing turn, it was Kai's. Something told her she wouldn't get far trying to convince Kai of such an obvious truth, though, and she heard herself ask, "Why did you kiss me?"
Kai's face scrunched into a perplexed expression that might have been endearing in a hundred other circumstances. "You know why I kissed you."
"I really don't."
The icy feeling in her chest clenched even tighter when Kai's pause stretched into an unsteady quiet. The quiet was both painful and awkward, and Kai seemed embarrassed and a little bit lost when he admitted, "I'm in love with you."
The words fell between them like boulders. That was how they felt to Ilsa, at least: heavy and unwelcome and crushing. The confession blew a mile past her waiting suspicions, and it was with a winded feeling that she took a backward step on shaky legs. When her knees buckled a moment later, she landed hard on the low bureau and had to grasp at the edge for balance. She stared at Kai, feeling wide open and stunned, overwhelmed by the rush of her own pulse in her ears.
She saw his moment of hesitation. A slight shift in balance was all that conveyed his urge to rush to her side. The force of her shock must have stayed him because instead of hurrying forward, he stuffed both hands in his front pockets. He stood there in the center of the room, watching her with hazel eyes gone painfully bright. He still looked lost as he waited for her answer to his confession.
Ilsa summoned her voice with difficulty. "I just assumed you wanted to sleep with me."
"Well... yeah, I mean. I definitely want that, too."
"Kai, I'm not... I don't... You get that that's never going to happen, right?"
"Never?" Kai echoed, fading hope on the cusp of heartbreak.
"Never," Ilsa repeated firmly. The crushed agony on his face—there and then hidden in the span of a heartbeat—made her wish there were some other answer she could give him. Guilt twisted behind her ribs, followed by an equal measure of anger, and the two feelings twined into an unhappy knot. It hurt to see the studied blank of Kai's face. The expression cut her almost as deeply as his wounded look had lanced before it vanished.
It hurt even more to think that after all these years they could still misunderstand each other so terribly.
Exasperation tinged Ilsa's voice and made her sound more defensive than she intended when she said, "For God's sake, you're my partner. You're my best friend. How was I supposed to know you were looking for more?"
"I wasn't looking," Kai protested. The veneer of his calm mask cracked enough to let a corner of hurt show through. "I didn't mean to fall in love with you. It just... happened."
"Kai," she breathed. Her eyes cut to the floor with its thin carpet and faded pattern. Her pause was thick with feeling as she tried to sort her thoughts into something coherent enough to explain. From this angle, she could only see Kai from the knees down, his dark trousers and heavy boots, but even that limited snapshot told her he was holding himself completely motionless. Awaiting an unwanted verdict. She forced herself to raise her head, to meet him straight on and speak with warm certainty. "You're the most important person in my life. I care for you. But not like this."
"Then how?" Kai pressed, and the quiet of his voice clawed straight through her defenses.
"Like family," she said. "Like a partner. Like the best friend I've ever had. I do love you. Why do we have to sleep together for that to count?" Ilsa's voice had risen gradually, from quiet fervor to almost a shout, and she had to bite at her lips to stop from continuing past a point already made.
Kai was silent for a long time. Seconds stretched into minutes at most, but they felt like a fraught eternity. Ilsa entertained her first inkling of hope when the worst of the thunder passed from Kai's face.
"You have feelings for someone else," he said, and the sliver of hope in Ilsa's chest squeezed away to nothing.
"No." She'd had this conversation before. Dozens of times, each worse than the last. She'd never expected to hear herself having it with Kai.
"You're not attracted to men, then?" There was no guile in Kai's expression, and even the sting of rejection seemed to have faded beneath a quizzical need to understand. That he might be entirely missing the point didn't seem to have occurred to him.
Ilsa had to unclench her jaw to answer, "I'm not attracted to anyone."
Kai's brow knitted in renewed confusion. "I don't understand."
Frustration spiked high and hard, and it was with gravel in her voice that Ilsa snapped, "Sex. Romance. I don't need them, and I don't want them. Not from you or anyone else. I'm not interested." She couldn't put it more plainly, and she willed him to accept the uncomplicated truth.
Instead he shook his head and asked, "But why?"
"Damn it, Kai, there doesn't have to be a reason. This is just me." She could feel her patience fraying like a live wire, heard her voice rising again and didn't care. She knew all the arguments, all the answers, all the skewed logic and standard protests. More than anything, she wanted Kai to be smart enough not to follow in those same worn tracks.
Because Kai was smart. And he was kind. He had never let her down before. It killed her somewhere deep and secret that he was letting her down now, but Ilsa wasn't entirely surprised when he tripped headlong into the first familiar trap.
"Did something happen?" Kai allowed himself a single forward step as worry became the dominant emotion on his face. "Did someone hurt you?"
"No," Ilsa snarled. Familiarity did nothing to lessen the ache of listening to this script play out, and her hands clenched tighter around the sharp edges of the bureau. Her knuckles paled as the strength of her grip squeezed the blood from her fingers.
"Are you sure?" Kai pressed, undeterred. "It's possible you wouldn't remember. Sometimes—"
"Fuck you," Ilsa bit out, cutting him short with the low chill of her voice. "I'm going to do us both a favor and pretend you didn't just say that to me." The last of her patience snapped so violently her entire spine straightened, and she glared at Kai with jarring anger.
"But," Kai began, and Ilsa steamrolled straight over him. She couldn't bear to let this disaster play out along the same old script.
"No. Just goddamn stop. Are you listening to the words coming out of your mouth right now?" There was no more measuring her tone, no more considering her words. There was only wrath and ice, and somewhere quieter, the low sting of betrayal. "Even if someone did hurt me, the fact that you want me wouldn't make it your business." She paused to inhale painfully. "And fuck you for assuming the only conceivable reason I might not want to sleep with you is that someone screwed me up."
Kai flinched beneath the force of her speech. To his credit, he looked genuinely chastened. For once, Ilsa didn't feel the familiar twinge of guilt. She was far too angry for remorse.
When Kai finally spoke, it was in a voice gone soft. His tone was conciliatory and far too gentle. "I'm just worried about you."
Ilsa snorted and let go of the bureau to cross her arms tightly beneath her breasts. The fire in her chest was stoked too high to let Kai off the hook so easily, and she retorted, "You're not worried about me. You're not even hearing me through your hurt goddamn pride. You think I'm wrong somehow just because I'm not giddy at being invited into your bed."
"I didn't say that!" Kai protested, taking a single involuntary step towards her before wisely subsiding. "This isn't just about sex."
Ilsa quieted her voice with straining willpower. "I know it's not just sex. But you still aren't hearing me. I've never wanted to be anyone's one-and-only." She paused and forced herself to draw a slow breath before finishing, "Not even yours."
"I just want to understand." Kai's voice was impossibly soft, and suddenly hurting in ways that had nothing to do with pride. Ilsa's heart gave an aching pulse, but she kept her expression stern.
"Get out of my room," she ordered. "I'm not going to explain myself again just because you didn't listen the first time."
"Ilsa—"
"I said get out." She rose to her feet in a rush, her hands clenching into impotent fists. "And don't come back." She was moving on nothing but bravado now. There was a cold lump in her chest that she recognized as her own breaking point, a chill spreading along her sternum and stinging her eyes with the threat of tears. She refused to cry with Kai watching her, but she wouldn't be able to hold herself back for long.
For an ugly instant, she feared Kai would stand his ground. It was a physical relief when he finally left, disappearing through the door without another word.
Alone, Ilsa sank to the edge of her bed and let herself shake to pieces.
*~*~*
Kai wasn't surprised when he couldn't find sleep that night.
His restlessness had little to do with a fear of delayed retribution from Eleazar Dantes. It wasn't only the deep bite of Ilsa's rejection, either; having his affection shot down hurt far less than the guilt of having caused his partner pain.
He'd seen Ilsa angry plenty of times in their seven-year partnership. But he'd never seen a wounded rage like this, and he'd certainly never been right at the epicenter of the event. The strength of her reaction staggered him, and he couldn't keep to his bed through the uncomfortable midnight quiet. He stayed upright instead. Pacing, thinking, reliving every moment of their exchange in his mind. Some of those moments were agony; they were even worse once he had cooled down enough to really hear Ilsa through his own bruised feelings.
He realized she was right, and his heart gave an unsteady lurch in his chest. He'd been too busy listening to his own ego to understand that the things she was saying had nothing to do with him. Kai replayed the words that had come out of his own mouth, the questions gone off course, and his chest burned with confusion and guilt.
Few things ached like self-awareness come too late.
By the time the chronometer by the door announced that dawn had arrived, Kai's head was throbbing with a sullen ache. Three hours later he was finding it nearly impossible to obey Ilsa's admonition to stay away when all he wanted was to pound on her door and apologize. At noon he started to wonder if he ought to call the port terminal. Maybe he could learn if there were pending departures booked under any of their half-dozen traveling aliases.
He didn't try to eat. The roil of guilt in his gut made the prospect unappealing.
Kai was ready to crawl out of his skin by fourteen-hundred when the chime on his door cut through the stifling quiet of his rented room.
Ilsa's expression was stiff when Kai gestured her inside. She shook her head when he tried to offer her the room's sole chair. She opted instead to stand near the door. Her posture was stern as she crossed her arms in a defensive stance. She had bound her hair into a thick braid, and though she wasn't wearing her long coat, she looked dressed to travel. The heavy shadows beneath her eyes proved she'd had a night every bit as sleepless as Kai's, and she stood with her gaze cast downward. The tense line of her shoulders was enough to prevent Kai from approaching.
"I'm sorry," he said, desperate and sincere and willing Ilsa to look him in the eye.
When she finally did, he had to fight to stand his ground. There was familiar intensity in her eyes, but the emotion behind them was all blunted hurt, reflecting words Kai couldn't take back. He could explain until the galaxy dissolved that he had been wrong, that he'd fucked up, that he hadn't meant to hurt her. But there was too much power in words already spoken, and Kai couldn't undo a harm he still didn't entirely understand.
Ilsa's voice was steady and strong, measured, with the unmistakable air of a well-rehearsed delivery. "I've never been interested in sex, or any of the baggage that comes with it. That doesn't make me wrong inside. It's just how I am."
"I'm sorry." Kai clenched his hands at his sides to keep himself still. "I fucked up."
Ilsa nodded. The worst of the tension eased from her stance, but her face still wore a guarded stiffness. She didn't uncross her arms. "You're not my lover, Kai. You're my best friend. How was I supposed to know you wanted to be more than that?"
"Ilsa, please." Kai's whole body jerked forward before he could stop himself. When he fell motionless once more, Ilsa was eyeing him warily. The expression cut straight through Kai, and he felt his jaw clench as fresh remorse sliced through him.
Ilsa was still watching him closely, and he knew before she spoke that he wasn't going to like her next words.
"If that's what you need from me, maybe we shouldn't work together."
Denial froze through Kai's blood, sharpened in his veins, narrowed his field of vision until he could see nothing but the tight set of Ilsa's jaw, the ache in her dark eyes. His skin felt suddenly too tight, and cold panic twisted low in his gut.
"I don't," he swore. "I don't need any such thing. I just need you to be my partner." He tried to picture what his life would be without Ilsa, and the only images he could summon were bleak and empty.
There was tightness now around Ilsa's eyes, and her voice sounded strained. "What if I'm not sure I want a partner anymore?"
Kai's knuckles went white as his hands clenched harder. He couldn't find his voice to answer.
Ilsa looked away, not at the floor this time but off to the side, towards the door that had brought her. "I thought I knew you so well," she confessed, the words escaping in a tight rush of feeling. "I thought you were the one person who would never put me in this position. The things you said last night... goddamn it, Kai, I thought I could trust you."
"You can trust me," Kai rasped, staring at her profile. His whole body thrummed with the panic beneath his skin.
"Can I?" Her throat worked in a sharp swallow. "Because I'm not sure anymore. And if I can't trust you, then why am I still here?"
"Because we're a team. Because we need each other."
Ilsa shook her head, and there was resignation in her beautiful face. "I can't do this, Kai. I can't just stand beside you and pretend everything's normal."
Kai felt a hot sting behind his eyes, the first prickling threat of tears as he realized, "You came to say goodbye."
Still staring at the door, Ilsa said, "I knew you'd worry if I just disappeared, and... I figure after everything we've been through together, I owe you better than that. I needed to tell you in person."
"Please don't go." Kai did step forward now, deliberately, right to the edge of Ilsa's personal space. He didn't try to touch her, but he let desperation twist his voice into something frantic when he repeated, "Please. We need each other."
Finally, Ilsa looked at him, but there was no hint of reassurance in her exhausted face. "I canceled our joint travel arrangements. You can go wherever you want as long as you don't follow me. I'll be off-planet within the hour."
She stepped away from him, towards the door, and Kai blurted, "Where will you go?"
Ilsa hesitated, her hand hovering over the panel that would slide the door open. "I haven't decided yet," she admitted. Then she pressed the panel and threw him a last look over her shoulder. "So long, Kai. Be safe."
It seemed an eternity before the door slid shut again, soundless and unforgiving. With Ilsa gone, Kai slipped to the floor and silently begged the room to stop spinning.