When Ren woke, the entire day had passed. Asher was gone, but a note sat tented by Ren’s head.
Ren crumpled the paper. He threw his legs over the side of the bed. He pushed his body erect and stumbled into the en-suite bathroom. He washed his face; the cold water shocked him into wakefulness.
Needing to see something different from the four walls, he slipped on his boots and left his room. Because their relationship was broken, Asher was no longer his anchor, and Ren relied on the others.
He heard voices in the common room and stepped through the doorway. The conversation stopped dead. He waved his hand at the occupants, Jakob and Penelope, before shuffling to the counter to pour a cup of day-old coffee.
“Hey, Ren,” Jakob said, standing up from the sagging couch and crossing the room. He clapped his hand on Ren’s shoulder. “It’s been an exciting day.”
Ren twisted his lips as he added sweetener to the steaming liquid and stirred it with a spoon. He preferred tea, but found the caffeine from the coffee helpful. Asher had shown him how to make coffee less bitter, which now seemed ironic.
“Is that your way of tactfully getting me to talk about this morning? Because you failed.”
Jakob scoffed. “I’ve been practicing my tact. Haven’t I, Pen?”
Penelope smiled, but the action did not reach her brown eyes. She brushed a long lock of curly dark hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.
“Sorry, Jakob. I’m going to have to agree with Ren on this one.”
“Weeds,” Jakob said, giving Ren a shake. “I have to work harder then.”
“Probably,” Ren said, moving out from under Jakob’s touch to sit at the table. He hunched over his drink and sipped it. It burned his tongue. Ren took comfort from the sting.
“Well, now that the ice is broken… do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
Ren pretended he didn’t notice the concerned glance Jakob and Penelope shared.
“Are you sure?” Penelope said. “Talking may help?”
Irritation crawled through Ren’s middle. He knew they were only trying to support him. They were his friends and undoubtedly they were scared because Ren had almost killed everyone that morning through oxygen deprivation and hypothermia and because of the other times Ren had accessed systems in the throes of a nightmare. But Penelope’s tone rubbed him the wrong way, like sandpaper against his nerves.
“The picture helped,” Ren said, recognizing that he had to give them something.
Jakob smiled as he sat down across from Ren. “It did?”
“Yeah, it reminded me I was on the ship.”
After the first time, when Ren had dreamed he was locked in the cell on Erden with Abiathar’s voice in his head and his sleeping, unconscious self had tried to open all the doors on the Star Stream including the airlocks, Jakob had drawn him the picture. Ren had laughed at the misshapen spaceship speeding along a map of stars leaving a rainbow trail in its wake. Stick-figure representations of the crew members dotted all sides of the border. Asher had a silver shoulder and a scribble of blond hair and a ridiculous frown. There had been several incidents after that.
No one was laughing anymore.
“That’s great!” Pen said, sitting up straighter. “Would you like me to draw you one as well? Oh, I know, Lucas is a great artist. You’ve seen the maps. He could do it. Would that help?”
They both regarded Ren so seriously, so earnestly, that Ren couldn’t be angry. “Sure,” he said.
Penelope’s smile went from forced to relieved. “I’ll ask him. Maybe one of his maps would help? It could remind you we’re in space?”
“And that it would be a bad idea to try to open the doors,” Jakob added. “Because of the terrifying vacuum that is right outside and the fact we would all die.”
“Noted,” Ren said, dryly.
Jakob ruffled Ren’s hair, and Ren scowled as he tried to pat it back down.
“Please, stop.”
“What? It can’t look any worse,” Jakob said with a grin.
Ren rolled his eyes. He gulped down his coffee, unable to stand the forced levity of Jakob and Pen’s combined presence. They tried too hard. Penelope wore her notoriously soft heart on her sleeve, and Jakob was acting like the boy he’d been in their home village on Erden. Jakob had always been haughty, brash, and impulsive, but likeable, and he’d inspired the admiration of the other youths. He had never teased Ren, because Ren wasn’t worth the effort; he wasn’t even on Jakob’s periphery.
Jakob was far from that boy now: His exterior was hardened, his shoulders were weary, his mind had become calculating, his point of view had been widened by what he had experienced. But he pretended for Ren’s sake.
Ren didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop. “Don’t you have something to do?” Ren stood and put his mug in the sink. “A task from our beloved Captain? Other than bothering me?”
Jakob’s smile grew. “Nope, other than enjoy the ride. You were right, Ren, space is boring when you haven’t been forcibly conscripted into the service of an insane despot.”
“Glad you’re having a nice time,” Ren said; his sarcasm was both thick and sharp.
“Actually,” Penelope said, interrupting, “we really should take stock of our supplies before we head to bed, Jakob. We’re pulling into port soon and we should check to see if we’re short of anything.”
“Well, then, I do have something to do other than give you a hard time.”
“Thank the stars for that.”
Jakob playfully pushed Ren’s shoulder, but then his expression turned serious.
“Did you ask?”
Ren’s coffee turned sour in his stomach.
“Jakob…” Ren trailed off. He didn’t know what to say. Jakob wanted to go back to Erden, to look for their friend, Sorcha, to look for his family. But Asher was right. The Corps wouldn’t grant permission, not now. Ren had a sneaking suspicion the constraints were partly because if Ren were planetside, he’d be out of the Corps’ jurisdiction and off their radar. They couldn’t afford to lose track of him and couldn’t be caught dirt-side following him. They didn’t belong on planets unless invited.
“No, I know. I shouldn’t have asked. Not with—” Jacob wiggled his fingers “—everything you’ve had to deal with already this morning.”
Ren couldn’t have felt more awful. “I’ll ask. I’ll ask tomorrow. The worst she can do is say no.”
Jakob had a glimmer of hope in his blue eyes. “Thank you,” he said.
Ren squirmed, unable to handle any more emotion. He turned for the door.
“Don’t you want to eat?” Pen asked before Ren could slip away. “I have leftovers from dinner.”
“I’m not hungry and I should probably check on the ship. Make sure I didn’t break anything important this time.”
“I could make you a sandwich to take with you.”
“No, I’m good. Thank you.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m fine, Pen,” Ren snapped. At her stricken expression, Ren moderated his tone. “I’m sorry. I’m fine, really. I should go.”
She gave him a fragile smile. “Okay.”
Feeling worse for being annoyed with Pen than he did for almost killing them all, Ren ducked his head and left the common room.
There was nothing wrong with the ship. Ren used the possibility as an excuse, which was a tactic he used often to escape uncomfortable interactions. He could feel the pulse of the Star Stream in his veins, could hear the heartbeat of the systems echo his own. The ship was an extension of him. His star knew every circuit, every wire, every inch of the vessel intimately.
Touching the wall, he closed his eyes and merged with the vid feeds. He watched his own body from a camera as he walked. The experience was surreal, but more real to him than looking out of his own eyes. He was a combination of machine and man and he didn’t know what that made him—if he was human or a different entity entirely—but he did know he was safe in the systems.
He only wanted to be safe.
And he wanted his friends to be safe. But that, apparently, was a harder task than he had anticipated.
Ren pulled out of the ship and wandered to the cargo bay where he knew Millicent would be. She liked the open area and she liked that Ollie worked out down there. She wasn’t fooling anyone—well, maybe Ollie. Not that Ren could give relationship advice, since his was fairly nonexistent, if it had ever existed at all.
He detected Millicent’s own star’s signature. She radiated a calm Ren could only hope to achieve. In the beginning, the thought was that Ren would teach her control, but they all soon learned it would be the other way around. Millicent had a soft-spoken way about her and impeccable restraint. She wasn’t as powerful as Ren, though she could take over the entirety of Mykonos Drift, and she could nuance her power in a way that Ren was still trying to master.
She had been able to push Ren out of the drift’s systems when they first met, and it wasn’t all because she had been under Abiathar’s control.
She, too, had found her niche in the crew of the Star Stream. Rowan and Pen treated her like a long-lost sister. Lucas and Ollie wanted to protect her.
Ren wasn’t jealous. Or—he shouldn’t be jealous—but he was. He’d rather be regarded as a harmless kitten than a threat. It was a strange dichotomy, and Ren was working on reconciling it.
“Ren,” Millicent said, as he descended the steps to the floor of the cargo bay. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” he said.
“You’re lying.”
She sat cross-legged on a rug with her back stiff. Her dark hair hung in long, straight strands; the tips curled on the floor. She stared, large eyes unblinking, pretty mouth pulled into a frown. Penelope’s mixer sat in front of her. She put the tip of her finger on the casing. Ren shuddered at the pulse of Millicent’s star, and the mixer came to life, only to short out a few moments later.
Ren sat on the floor across from her. “You should take lessons on tact from Jakob. He at least tried to cushion it when he called me out.”
She didn’t smile. “I’m not Jakob. The others may not be able to feel it, but I can.”
Ren raised an eyebrow. “Feel what?”
“Feel that you’re drifting. You’re everywhere in this ship, and that means you’re not in there,” she said, pushing her finger into Ren’s chest.
He rubbed the spot where her fingernail had dug in. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not anchored.”
“Well, my anchor turned out to be a cog. It’s a little difficult to want to be around someone who has more allegiance to his boss than his friend.”
She blinked, her expression unreadable. “He’s protecting you.”
Ren frowned. “There doesn’t seem to be much difference between being protected and being prisoner.” That wasn’t entirely fair, but Ren wasn’t in the mood to be fair.
“That’s not true. You need to talk to him.”
Ren glanced away. “I know, but I… can’t. We’re… trying, but things are different now.”
“You’d risk venting us all into space instead of talking to a person who holds affection for you?”
“I didn’t say it made sense,” Ren grumbled.
“He needs to understand that you don’t need protecting.”
“Did you miss the part where I have a powerful military organization wanting to lock me up? Lock us both up?”
Millicent slowly turned her head to the side. She may be calm, but sometimes the way she moved made Ren think of a puppet. It was eerily reminiscent of when he’d met her, when she was under the influence of Abiathar’s voice and her eyes had glowed in her vacant body.
“We’re stars. We’re more powerful than any person or any group. Protection from Asher means nothing.”
“I’d think twice about saying that to anyone other than me. It sounds a little scary and threatening. The crew might not understand what you mean.”
“Do you understand?”
Ren’s frown deepened. He cleared his throat. “What are you up to?” Changing the subject, he gestured at the machine.
Millicent slowly tilted her head to the other side. “Playing with Penelope’s mixer. I haven’t been successful.”
“Is it broken?”
“I don’t think so? Unless I broke it.”
Ren hid a smile. Millicent and he were opposites. When Abiathar used her powers to take over the drift, it had drained her; Ren’s powers only seemed to grow. He had tapped into the vastness of space and unleashed a torrent of potential, while her star withered. As they had discovered, their bodies reacted differently to the innate power. Millicent had control, and Ren was going to burn up from the inside. Abiathar could influence others with his voice. Nadie could see the future. Who knew what others could do?
Ren held out his hand and concentrated. The tingle of power emanated from his chest and trickled down to his fingertips; his vision went blue as he pushed out and explored the simplistic innards of the mixer. There was a slight glitch, which he fixed, but otherwise nothing was broken and the power source was fully charged. He found the switch, flicked it on, and the beater whirred to life. He turned it off and disengaged.
Millicent pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “How can you do that without touching it?”
“I don’t know. I see it and I know what to do. I can’t really explain it.”
She shook her head so her long hair swept across the floor. “I understand why you have a hard time controlling it. We should work on control. Sit with me.”
They’d done this before, when Ren had started to go haywire, after the first time he had entered the ship in his dreams. He mirrored her pose, and she guided him through breathing exercises.
“I think everyone has gone to bed,” she said softly. “Except Lucas, who is on the bridge. Wearing goggles.”
“Yeah, I don’t get that either.”
She snorted.
Ren lifted the corner of his mouth. He closed his eyes and followed her lead, inhaling and exhaling. With each breath, his star centered. The warmth glowed in the middle of his chest and pulsed with his heartbeat. The ship enveloped him in tranquility. The soothing hum of its systems and the energy from circuits flowed through the ship like a life force. The exercises were meant to make him more concentrated in his own body, in his corporeal self, but Ren found the opposite.
He reached for calm, but it was elusive, especially when his emotions were in such turmoil. Serenity was slippery, like a fish pulled from the lake on Erden. The systems pulled on his being, and he couldn’t resist, and his thoughts turned toward the dark and dire—the confines of his cell on Erden, the loss of his brother, the desperate days of wandering across the countryside.
He gave in to the Star Stream; he fled from the tumultuous mortal coil into the freedom and safety of the ship. He floated amid the systems, and found the ship’s time much later than he thought. He’d lost time during his walk from the common area to the cargo bay, and the fact disconcerted him. Everyone was indeed asleep, except Lucas and Asher.
Through the comm system, he could hear Asher talking. Curious, Ren followed the stream of information.
“The subjects continue to remain stable.”
Ren flinched from the clinical terms. Subjects. Then he bristled. He was a star host, and Asher would do well to remember that.
“The female is in control of her power. There have been no incidents. The male…”
Here, Asher trailed off. He put down the tablet he dictated into and rubbed a hand over his eyes. He pushed the tablet away and turned to the bed.
“Oh, Ren,” he muttered. “What is going on with you?” He plopped onto the bunk and hit his pillow twice. “I don’t know how to help you.”
Asher seemed reluctant, confused, and sad. He didn’t gleefully recount that Ren had nearly killed them that morning—while in the throes of panic, but no less dangerous for that. Asher didn’t report the incident or Ren’s confession. And when Asher sighed and kicked off his shoes, then pulled his shirt over his head, Ren spied the marred flesh of his shoulder, the shredded Corps tattoo, the reminder that Asher had suffered at the hands of the Corps himself. Yet, he had faith.
Ren’s heart lurched.
Asher wore a tough front most of the time, but still waters ran deep. Ren ached to be with him, ached to wrap his arms around Asher and hold on, keep him safe, bolster him.
He couldn’t.
Ren blinked his eyes open, fully present in his body. He sat across from Millicent, and his heart thumped, his pulse raced, and he could feel the moisture gather in the corners of his eyes.
“Ren?” Millicent asked. “Are you okay?”
He breathed. “I’m… fine. I think?”
“Where did you go?”
“Comm system,” he said. He flexed his fingers and absently touched the cool deck plate. “Asher is awake.”
Millicent frowned. “I didn’t know. I couldn’t feel it.”
“I could.” Ren wiped at his eyes. “I’m so confused. I don’t know what to feel anymore. I’m… adrift.”
Millicent gave him a commiserating glance. “Maybe you shouldn’t worry about how you feel right now. Focus on being present in yourself, in your star and in your body. You’re putting yourself in danger if you can’t control it.”
“I’m putting everyone in danger.” Ren hunched and crossed his arms. “For so long all I wanted to do was be out here in space, among the stars, and now I think it would’ve been better if I had never left Erden, if I had stayed and hid and let Asher leave on his own.”
Millicent blinked her large eyes and pursed her lips. “Then he would have won. And your friends would be in danger—or dead.”
And Ren couldn’t argue with that. He ducked his head and traced the scratches that adorned the deck plate of the cargo bay.
“You need rest,” she said.
Ren nodded. Despite sleeping all day, he hadn’t recovered from the past few weeks of insomnia and interrupted sleep. He had to look better for tomorrow when he would check in with VanMeerten.
He needed to give Asher reasons not to doubt him, not to have to choose between him and the Corps, because Ren was fairly certain he’d lose.
“Goodnight, Millicent.”
She smiled, small and private. “Goodnight, Ren. Sweet dreams.”
“Let’s hope.”
With that, Ren left the cargo bay and slipped like a ghost through the hallways to his room.
* * *
Ren was lost. He was in the forest, that much he knew. He could see the sinking sun through the trees and the canopy of leaves. He listened for the sound of anyone or anything, but it was silent: no birds, no wind, no animals scampering in the underbrush, no life. As he trudged along the winding path, the trees loomed, blocking the meager light, casting shadows that danced and threatened. Their spindly branches reached out, grabbed at his jacket, dug their claws into the fabric, and held him. Ren pulled away from the terrifying embrace, as the forest creaked, the tree bark moaned, and terror seized Ren’s heart.
He ran. Legs pumping, Ren burst through the bracken and stumbled onto a familiar beach. The sun disappeared over the horizon with an unnatural quickness, and the stars and broken moon cast sparkles on the water. Ren’s feet sank in the sand, and, when he tried to move, he was stuck fast. The air was syrupy, sticky and dense. He struggled to inhale and his hands shook as he clutched at his shirt.
Ren looked behind him and the forest swayed, menacing and unreal. But Ren recognized this beach; he recognized the lake and the sky. A memory stirred, and then a name.
“Liam!” he yelled.
He was on Erden. This was his and Liam’s lake. He remembered. He remembered lying in the sand before the floaters came, carted him away, and scared Liam into hiding, beyond Ren’s reach.
“Liam!” he yelled again; his voice caught on his brother’s name.
He managed to pull his foot from his boot, leaving it in the quicksand. He moved toward the water, and from one wave to the next, the water turned from clear blue to red.
Crimson foam and red froth slapped on the shore and smelled of metal and fear. Ren tasted it in the back of his throat.
“Liam!”
“Ren,” the voice came from next to him, over his shoulder. The breath was hot against his ear.
“Liam?” He spun and caught sight of a fleeting shadow. But there was nothing behind him, and Ren knew he was chasing a ghost.
He ran anyway, moving slowly, his limbs heavy. Even his blinking was slowed by the viscous atmosphere. Sound returned in the soft slap of the waves on the shore and the torture of Liam’s voice taunting him.
“Why did you leave me?” Liam’s voice echoed, accusatory and broken.
“I didn’t!” Ren shouted, desperate. “I was taken. They took me away. I didn’t want to leave!”
“You left me. You left me.”
Ren spun in a circle and the wash of colors of the forest and the lake blended in his vision. He smelled the tang of the blood-water.
“I will find you,” Ren said. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I will find you. I promise. I will bring you home.”
“You can’t.”
“I will!”
The voice faded, and with it the presence of whomever had been with him. Ren became frantic, pleading. “Liam?” He dropped to his knees and scrabbled along the beach; his hands sank into the wet sand. “Liam!”
“Ren,” the voice was next to him now, but deeper, softer, not Liam’s.
Ren sobbed.
“Ren, wake up.”
Ren rocketed out of sleep. There were no alarms, no indication he had entered the workings of the ship, but he had been dreaming.
Asher’s arms were strong around him, and Ren fought. He pushed until he was no longer trapped and fell to the deck plate. His body hurt, sore from the dream, sore from slapping against the metal. He flailed his limbs and noted they moved at their normal speed, unhindered. He breathed and it was no longer a labor. Gaze wild, he looked around the room and saw the gleaming walls of the ship. Looking up, he saw Jakob’s picture and a new star chart.
“Ren?” Asher crouched, and his voice was soft, as if he was gentling a wild animal.
Ren held up a hand. “Don’t touch me,” he gasped. “Don’t. Stay away. I can’t… I can’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”
Asher nodded. He curled his fists against his thighs. “Okay. I won’t touch you.”
“Liam?”
“You were dreaming.”
“I was on Erden. I was stuck in the forest. In the sand.” Ren looked around, confused. The light was low and the shadows moved. They made Ren nervous, and, after a flick of his hand, the lights blazed.
Asher blinked, then stood. “Ren, it was a dream. You’re on the Star Stream.”
“I know,” Ren snapped, pulling his body straight. He paced the length of his cell. His pulse thumped; adrenaline was a live current in his veins. He gazed around the small space, not seeing it. Expecting to see granules of sand, he studied his palms. There was nothing.
“I need to go back.”
“Where?”
“Home. I need to go back home.”
Asher put his hands on his hips and gazed at the ceiling. “Ren, we’ve talked about that. It’s not possible right now. Not until you’re stable.”
“This is how you can help me.”
Asher went pale. “What?”
“You want to help me. This is how you can help me. You want me to be the person you knew? I need to go back.”
“How? Were you… listening to me? Spying on me?”
Ren froze. He ran a hand through his hair. It was sticky with sweat, and he pushed it from his face.
“I heard you over the comm. I was in the ship.”
“Purposefully?”
“Kind of? That’s not the point.”
“It kind of is the point, Ren. You spied on me.”
“That doesn’t matter. If you do care about me, you’ll help me.”
“And if I don’t?”
Ren hadn’t considered that. He narrowed his eyes and slowed his manic pacing. “I’ll do what I have to, anything I have to.”
Asher pointed at him. “You are out of control,” he said, enunciating every word. “Do you understand that? Do you get the position I’m in here? I’m trying to protect you!”
“You are trying to keep me captive!” The words erupted from Ren’s mouth. As his power flickered, the lights dimmed, and the comm crackled. “I don’t need you to protect me. I am a star, more powerful than anyone on this ship.”
Asher stepped back. His green eyes narrowed, and his mouth clamped into a firm line. He clenched his jaw, and, with his shoulders pulled back, he was every inch a soldier.
Ren hated it.
“Your behavior is erratic. You can’t sleep. You don’t eat. You dream and you put everyone on this ship at risk. You are falling apart, and everyone can see it but you.”
“You think I can’t see it? You think I don’t feel it? I know, all right? I know.” Ren peered at his hands. He pulled his fingers toward his palm, then straightened them and spread them out as far as they could go. “I know all of that. I know and I’m trying. But you don’t understand.”
“And I suppose Millicent does.”
Ren snapped his head up. “What the stars does that mean?”
Asher crossed his arms. He studied the door to the hallway intently, as if it held the secrets to the universe. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
Ren frowned. His body trembled. “I want to go back to my village. I want to try to find my family. I want to find Liam. I need to know if everyone really is gone.”
Asher met Ren’s pleading gaze with a hard, cold one of his own. “You can’t.”
“Ash—”
“Not while VanMeerten is looking for any excuse to throw you in a cell. You need to stay under her radar and keep your power under control. Am I clear?”
Ren flushed, embarrassed, ashamed, and angry. “Crystal. And I think you should leave.”
“Ren—”
“Get out.” He bit out the words. “Or do I need permission for that, too?”
The remaining color of Asher’s complexion fled save for two bright spots on his cheeks. He stood with his body in one long, taut line.
“Fine. Report in an hour. Try to be presentable.”
Asher spun on his heel and stalked out of the room. He slammed the door behind him with enough force that Ren’s night table rattled.
The star throbbed in Ren’s middle, and he was livid down to his bones. He yelled, wordless, and a pulse of blue light flashed. The comm crackled, and his lights stuttered. For a moment, every system halted, frozen by Ren’s frustration. It was only a moment, then everything whirred back to life.
He sank to his floor and buried his face in his hands.
* * *
After he calmed down, Ren washed, and, following Asher’s instructions, attempted to look presentable. Foregoing breakfast, he walked to the bridge and jerkily moved to his spot next to Rowan.
She raked her gaze over him, and her mouth tightened. “You wouldn’t have had anything to do with the slight pause in the ship’s systems about an hour ago, would you?”
Ren glared. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I figured.” She tossed her braid over her shoulder. “I’m glad you managed to rest. But you’re looking a little… defiant today. You may want to tuck that away before the feed goes live.”
Ren didn’t answer. He lifted his chin and he heard Rowan sigh next to him.
Millicent skipped up the stairs and, meek as always, stood next to Rowan. Her deference made Ren burn even more. Asher was the last to join them. He didn’t look at Ren. He kept his gaze on the far wall and when he turned to face the vid screen, his movements were abrupt and sure, soaked in military routine.
Rowan glanced at them, but said nothing. The tension on the bridge was thick enough to cut with a saw. It would be apparent to VanMeerten and it would launch questions and give her enough reason to make the Star Stream turn around and go back to Mykonos Drift.
But Ren was finished playing a part. He was a star host. He was a being imbued with the power of the stars. He was more than this body. He would not apologize for his existence any longer.
The screen blinked into life. In her uniform as always, VanMeerten sat at her desk. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, and there was no indication she had moved since the last time Ren had seen her. She could very well be as nonhuman as Ren. He had no proof she wasn’t.
“I trust you are all well,” she said, tenting her fingers and peering down at them from the end of her pointed nose.
Unflinching, Ren met her gaze. He didn’t speak, but she raised her eyebrow at him and her lips curled.
“Everything is very well,” Rowan said. “As you can see, Ren has rested and is looking better. His power is under control, and Millicent is adjusting to crew life.”
“He is over space sickness in one day? That’s impressive. In my experience, it takes closer to a week.”
“It was a mild case, and our medic is second to none.”
“I see. Well, if there are no concerns, then I will check in again tomorrow.”
On the screen, VanMeerten reached to close the connection, but before she could, Asher stepped forward. He blocked Ren’s view of the general. All Ren could see was the strong line of Asher’s back and the symbol of the rising Phoenix, wings outspread, flames wreathed around the bird’s talons, on the top of his bicep.
“Actually, I have an incident to report.”
Rowan cut her gaze to Asher. She seemed concerned, scared, and confused.
“Ash,” she said. “What are you doing?”
“Telling the truth,” he said.
Ren couldn’t see VanMeerten’s face, but he could imagine how she appeared as her features took on a predator-like expression. She was hungry for any reason to lock Ren away for the rest of his natural life—until she had use for him.
“Ren has nightmares,” Asher continued. “He has nightmares and panic attacks and he puts us at risk. He has attempted to vent the ship on one occasion. On another, the oxygen began to fail.”
“Ash!” Rowan barked.
The words lanced through Ren like a sword; the betrayal bit deep into his flesh. His mouth fell open. Asher kept his eyes fixed on the screen.
“Why have you not reported this sooner?”
“Because I was giving the subject the benefit of the doubt. I was attached to him, but I cannot remain quiet any longer. He obviously cannot handle the environment here and he is putting us all in danger.”
Ren recoiled from the impersonal language. Asher spoke in the past tense. He “was” attached, as if he wasn’t now. Ren had known the end was coming, but to hear it, to experience it, in front of the woman who wanted him locked away and in front of his friends was more than he could bear. Part of him wanted to shrivel up and die, but another part of him, the part intimately connected to the star, that part of him raged.
“I see. Captain Morgan, I believe this experiment of allowing the subjects into space has failed. Come back to Mykonos immediately.”
Rowan placed her hands on her hips. “No. The Corps does not dictate my business. I have made a commitment to see this supply run through and I will not have my reputation sullied because of a snit fit between my brother and Ren.”
“Do you not agree that the subject is a danger?”
“He’s about as dangerous as anyone on this ship. I have a pulse gun and know how to use it. Ollie easily is the strongest. Pen could poison us. A teenage twig from a dust-hole planet is merely one of many threats.”
“So you do believe him a threat? A weapon?”
Rowan opened her mouth to retort, but snapped it shut. VanMeerten had twisted her words. Rowan couldn’t backtrack.
Ren, however, had heard enough. He was through with others deciding his fate. He was taking control of this situation—his status be damned. He pushed Asher out of his way and stood in front of VanMeerten.
“I want to go home,” Ren said, his voice even, his tone sharp as steel.
VanMeerten raised an eyebrow. She braced her hands on her desk, fingers spread. “What?”
“I want to go home,” Ren stated. “I don’t know how much simpler I can say it.”
“Ren,” Asher whispered harshly, but Ren ignored him.
“You don’t have a home. It was my understanding that your village was destroyed.”
Ren controlled his flinch and stood his ground. He pulled his spine straight and didn’t shrink from her gaze.
“Maybe, but I want to see for myself. You can’t keep me from going.”
She stood, hands gripping the edge of her desk, and loomed forward. “I can. And I will. Captain Morgan, I want you to turn your ship around immediately and bring this young man back to Mykonos.”
“No,” Ren said. “You will not, Captain.”
“Are you testing me, star host?”
“I have a name,” Ren said. He clenched his fists; anger rose hot and quick. Sparks flickered around his fingers. “I’m not a subject. I’m a person and I have a home.” His vision turned blue around the edges. “And I want to go back to my planet and find my family. You have no right to deny me.”
“I have every right. You are a threat, and it is my duty to protect—”
“I am not a threat!” The vid screen fluttered as static gathered at the corners. “I am a star host, and you cannot stop me. Your Phoenix Corps cannot stop me, and you know that.”
“Ren,” Asher said, his voice a low command. “You need to calm down. Your eyes are blue.”
“Stay out of this, Ash, especially if all you are going to do is take her side.” Ren pointed a shaking finger toward the vid screen. Asher crossed his arms and kept his expression flat, and Ren saw the connection between them turn to cinder. Good. He didn’t need Asher. It was better he didn’t have any emotional entanglements.
“I can see that this situation has gotten out of hand. I’ve allowed you too much freedom. I’m afraid I am going to have to call you back to Mykonos and, if you cannot control yourself, I will be forced to send you to the facility near the Perilous Space.”
Ren turned back to VanMeerten and stalked forward. “Do I need to remind you I disabled an entire ship with a thought? That I can make your weapons inert with barely a whisper? I can infect Mykonos Drift like a virus in a mere breath, and then where will you be? How can you protect your people from a power like mine?”
Ren hit a nerve. He could see it in the twitch of VanMeerten’s mouth, the worried wrinkle that appeared on her forehead, the almost imperceptible movement of her eyebrows.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Rowan said. She slammed her hand down on Ren’s shoulder and yanked him back. “Obviously, Ren here is a little homesick and a lot more space sick than we thought. General, the crew of the Star Stream will gladly take him back to Erden under the watchful eye of your very own corporal here after we finish this supply run. If you grant us this request, of course. I am sure you understand that with the extra mouths to feed on the ship, I need all the income available to me, even with the Corps’ generous stipend. I will personally see that Ren gets a good night’s sleep, drugged if needed as per your suggestion.” She gave Ren a shake as if he was a naughty puppy. “We’ll check in tomorrow, and you can give us your decision regarding the trip back to his planet. Until then, Morgan out.”
Asher lunged for the comm console and ended the transmission before the general could so much as blink.
Then Ren found himself pinned to the wall with Rowan’s forearm like iron across his chest and her face tilted up to stare right into his.
“What the stars has gotten into you?” she demanded, seeming utterly furious; her cheeks were pink. “Are you addled? Threatening the Corps? After what you did yesterday morning? Stars, Ren. I should shove you out the aft airlock right now after that stunt. Seriously. Taunting a general? You are going to end up in Perilous Space!”
Ren could barely breathe. His head thunked against the wall. He didn’t want to cry, he didn’t, not in front of Asher and Rowan and Millicent, but the tears burned in his eyes. He tried to blink them away, but they spilled down his cheeks in rivulets.
“And you!” she said, swinging around to thrust a finger into Asher’s chest, and thereby letting go so Ren could breathe again. “What the stars was that? I thought the plan was to protect Ren, not throw him to a black hole?”
“It needed to be said.”
“What is going on with you two?”
Asher stuck out his chin. “It needed to be reported for our own safety. Rowan, do you honestly think the Corps wouldn’t charge you with treason if they found out what’s been going on without us telling them? They’d take away your license to captain. Stars, they’d take away this ship! Are you willing to risk everyone’s home? Your livelihood?”
Rowan stared, astonished, mouth open. “What’s wrong with you? A few months ago you would’ve died for this kid and now you’re acting like you hardly know him.”
Asher crossed his arms. “Things change.”
Rowan threw up her hands. “That’s great. Just great. You’re both acting like your personalities were replaced when I wasn’t looking, like you’ve been swapped out.” She paused. “You haven’t been, have you?”
“No,” Ren said.
Asher rolled his eyes.
“Well, I don’t know. Since I’ve met you I’ve seen things I didn’t know were possible. What’s body snatchers compared to transporting a ship across the cluster?” She tossed her long, golden braid over her shoulder. “What do we do now?”
“I need to go back to Erden,” Ren said softly. “I’m sorry, Rowan.” He was. He was so sorry. “I’m not myself. I don’t feel like myself.”
Her expression softened. “We’ll figure it out, Ren. But you can’t do that,” she said, sweeping her arm toward the vid screen. “Understand? You have a target on your back a league wide, and if you want to live, if you want to have any kind of freedom, you have to be on your best behavior.”
Ren bit his lip and nodded. He didn’t want to say anything about his supposed freedom. This wasn’t the moment. But he understood. Cogs, what had he done? “I understand.”
She touched his arm. “Good. Now, go do something and get out of my sight. I’m irritated just looking at you.”
With his eyes downcast, Ren nodded. He brushed passed Asher. Their shoulders touched, the tips of Ren’s fingers whispered over the back of Asher’s hand, and, for a split second, the components of Asher’s shoulder flashed in Ren’s mind. But the moment ended, and the feelings Ren had for Asher were mired in complications and regret.
Maybe it would be easier if Ren hadn’t formed such a strong bond with Asher in the beginning. Maybe if they hadn’t kissed; maybe if Ren hadn’t allowed himself the affection he had for Asher; maybe if Ren hadn’t fallen so quickly, so deeply, hadn’t counted on Asher and cared for Asher; maybe the thick tension between them wouldn’t seem so terrible.
In his heart, Ren wanted Asher’s friendship back. He wanted to explore their relationship. He wanted to hold hands and kiss and be together. And once he’d been certain Asher wanted that too. Ren wasn’t sure of that any longer. And stars, Ren couldn’t get past the fact he had traded one prison for another. Instead of a despotic baron, the organization to which Asher held the most allegiance was his captor.
Now, when Ren saw Asher, all he could see was another person who wanted to control and use him—and who had betrayed him.
It made panic and fear crawl into his throat and sweat break out along his skin. It made his heart stutter, and not in the way it should. Everything was wrong.
And there was no way to fix it.