Zoe wasn’t sure what Talan thought she was, but he made it sound like he believed she was capable of saving an entire planet.
What a joke that was. She could hardly go a day without losing her phone, and some nights she completely forgot to go home. She’d simply look up from whatever she’d been working on and see that the sun had already come up again. Not only that, but she couldn’t picture herself creating weapons. Defenses? Sure. Gadgets? Absolutely. But her father had been the one with a knack for weaponry. He’d even given her a box filled with a few of her very own, warning her that she needed to practice.
As the thought crossed her mind, she realized that maybe the box was a clue. She’d tossed it in her purse before leaving the shop, and it was still there.
She jumped from the couch and grabbed the box.
“What is that?” Talan asked.
“My dad made it for me. I thought it might give us some idea what the riddle means.”
“Can I see it?”
Zoe handed him the box and sat down next to him, as close as she could get without appearing clingy.
He traced a thick, blunt finger over a line of symbols. “This is Builders’ script.”
“What does it say?”
“I don’t know. Only true Builders are allowed to learn it.”
“It looks like what’s on your head.”
Talan’s jaw clenched and his mouth tightened. “It is.”
“But you can’t read it? Why did you get a tattoo you can’t read? How do you even know what it says?”
“It’s not my place to know. As soon as it was determined that I was not a Builder, I was marked.”
“But why?”
Anger brightened his eyes, making their pale green glow. “I’m descended from a line of Builders. These marks are a recording of their accomplishments and creations. They contain knowledge, formulas, recipes, designs.”
“What good does that do you if you can’t read them?”
“The information is not here for me. It’s here for other Builders, and in case of the rare possibility that my Builder blood may be passed to my children.”
“You’re a walking textbook?”
“It’s the only way I can contribute to my people. All failed Builders are marked in the same way so that they might share what they should have been able to teach to those younger than them.”
“So because you’re not able to talk about this stuff, you have to let people read it on your skin?”
“Yes.”
“What if someone translates the language and steals your family secrets?”
“They wouldn’t have trusted my skin with anything dangerous. It was obvious from the time I was young that I would join the warriors. My guess is that what’s inked onto my body is a list of vital information that would allow a Builder to create basic, lifesaving potions should that knowledge be destroyed in the war. Things like the liquid skin that stopped your bleeding, and the fluid I drink when there is no time to rest and I need to keep fighting.”
“So… not secrets, but things that your people use to survive.”
“Exactly.”
She stared at his head, and as she did, a few words became clear. She still couldn’t read everything, but there was a familiarity there, like maybe she could figure it out if she got enough time.
Sadly, time was not something they had much of right now.
“Did your father teach you Builders’ script?”
“Not much. He said there would be plenty of time for that after we returned. I picked up a little, but it’s a complex language.”
He nodded. “I can only imagine. So how do you open the box?”
“There’s a trick to it.” She ran her fingers over the intricate surface, remembering the hours she and her father had spent building it. From the outside it looked only like an elaborate jewelry box, but she knew better. The design was one of her father’s, a puzzle too complex for anyone to open accidentally. Someone could smash it open, but that was the only way to get in without knowing the key.
Zoe spun the filigree ornament on the top, pressing in several sections of detailed carvings at once. She inserted her thumb into the shallow recess along the bottom and blew a warm breath over the keyhole until it made a high, flutelike sound.
Once the pitch was perfect, the box popped open. Inside the velvet-lined compartments sat several metallic pieces—an accumulation of her father’s decades of skill and patience. Even just glancing in the box, she could tell instantly which of the various pieces he’d built and which ones she’d fumbled together under his tutelage.
She missed him so much it was like a giant part of her had been cut out and left bleeding. He’d been the sun around which her life had revolved. Brilliant, warm, protective. He’d taught her everything she knew, and even though she’d done her best to soak in all his knowledge, she still was a pale comparison to him.
The urge to linger over the pieces he’d built tugged at her, but there was no time for that. She would reminisce and grieve later. Right now there was a Raide on the loose and a riddle to solve.
“He gave you weapons?” asked Talan, his tone one of outrage.
Instantly, Zoe felt the need to defend her dad. “He knew he wouldn’t always be around to protect me. And he had no way of knowing if anyone would ever come for us. These weapons were his way of loving me the best he could.”
Talan reached in and picked up a trio of sheengs. The small, bladed disks had a wicked edge that was sharp enough to cut through a two-by-four, even when she threw them. Her aim sucked, but if she got close enough, she could do some serious damage with them.
He weighed them in his hand. “These are exquisite. Perfect balance. And they’re still powered. When was the last time you fed them energy?”
“Months ago.”
He let out a low whistle. “Your father had amazing skills.”
She felt a blush warm her cheeks. “Actually, those are my work. Dad’s were much nicer. I lost them all practicing, though. They cut right through the wooden fence and lodged in various neighbors’ trees.”
“You made these?” He seemed surprised at first, but then his expression changed to one of determination. “I need to send you home tonight.”
“But what about the sphere?”
“I’ll find it on my own. You need to be with your people, using your rare gift to fight the Raide.”
He started to stand up, but she grabbed his arm. “Wait a minute. Just because I made some pretty gadgets doesn’t mean you get to change the game plan. You’ll never solve that riddle without me. And even if you did, chances are it only leads to another riddle that’s even more convoluted. That’s the way Dad always did it.”
“Then we need to solve the riddle fast. Now. Tonight. Whatever issues you have, whatever you’re holding back, you need to get over all of that and help me find the sphere.”
He was right. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t yet ready to enter her father’s private space. It didn’t matter that she was still grieving. The safe was in that room, along with who knew how many other possible clues to solving the riddle. She had to find a way to shake off the fear and pain she’d suffered tonight and get on with the work at hand.
She looked up at Talan. “Did anything in the box mean something to you? Any hint as to what Dad meant by balance?”
He picked up one of the devices she’d made—something that had come to her in a dream. It was made of strands of copper and gold wound around a core of metal that had come from her home world. The three colors of metal were beautiful in their appearance, but she wasn’t entirely sure that the gadget worked. Every time she’d tried to activate it, she’d failed, so it ended up here, discarded and forgotten.
His gaze met hers. “The craftsmanship of this work is beyond anything I’ve ever seen. Absolutely exquisite. What does it do?”
“It’s supposed to be for self-defense, but I’ve never been able to make it work. I think I might have done something wrong.”
“You have a gift, Zoe. If the sheengs you made are any indication, you should never doubt your ability.”
She found a large safety pin lying nearby and threaded it through one of the wires along the edge of the piece. Then she pinned it to his vest. “It’s yours. If you can make it work, more power to you.”
His hand covered hers. “I can’t accept a gift this valuable.”
“It’s just some pieces of metal. Pretty, but not much else from what I’ve been able to tell—a failed project. Please keep it. For me.”
He nodded his head. “For you, I will. Thank you.”
His gaze held hers too long, making her heat up inside. There was something about him that pulled her in, holding on tight when she knew that she needed to focus on other things. “We really need to figure out what Dad’s clue meant.”
He let her hand go with a slow caress. “I’ve been thinking about it. Maybe, since he was a literal man, it has something to do with the Imonite language.”
“That could be. Does balance mean something else in Imonite?”
“No, but the word for balance—whisthrala—is the same word used to denote a tipping point between two very different states.”
Maybe he was onto something. She spoke the language, but only a little. The nuances of Imonite were not something she’d mastered. Her father had seemed hesitant to spend too much time speaking the language, as if he feared they’d be overheard. “What do you mean? Like when water becomes steam?”
He frowned and stared into the fire, thinking. “It’s a bigger concept than that. More important. Like when winter turns to spring, or when a woman becomes a mother.”
That sparked something in her head. It wasn’t quite a thought—yet—but it was the beginning of one. She’d felt this before and knew that she couldn’t focus on it too hard or it would slip away again. She had to let it form organically, in its own time.
But not reaching for the answer was a near impossible thing to ask of herself. She needed answers so badly, and there was one right there, nearly in her grasp.
That tiny spark started to fade. She couldn’t turn her attention away from it. This was too important and they didn’t have much time. A sense of panic settled behind her ribs. “Quick, distract me.”
“What?”
“Just do something. Anything. Something’s coming to me, but I can’t think about—” She was cut off by his mouth covering hers in a kiss so fierce it startled her.
The carved wooden box fell from her hands, but she didn’t care. Talan’s weight bore her backward onto the couch. His hand splayed against the back of her head, protecting it from the hard corner of the arm. Strong fingers shifted, tilting her head until their mouths fit perfectly together.
His tongue slipped past her lips, teasing the tip of hers. As she always seemed to do when this man was near, her whole body softened, melting into a pliant pool of desire. She went boneless, letting him do as he pleased until he was settled between her open thighs, his delicious weight holding her down.
She’d never been with a man like Talan before, and it wasn’t just his size or power that she found so compelling. He vibrated with restrained strength, touching her carefully, gently. Everything he did thrilled her, making her heat up from the inside out. When he touched her, the world simply dissipated into a puff of smoke, forgotten and unimportant.
His fingers snuck under her sweater and fitted against her waist, sliding up over her ribs until she could feel the heat of his hand hovering just below her breast. She arched her back in an effort to get him to touch her there, but all the moved gained her was a little more of his weight holding her in place.
His penis was thick and hard, pressing right against the seam of her jeans. She shifted her hips, rubbing against him until she hit the sweet spot. As her damp panties grazed against her clit, a firestorm of sensation shot up her spine.
She sucked in a breath that tasted like him, and felt his cock grow even harder. He lifted his head and stared down at her. Only a thin ring of pale green rimmed his pupils. His skin was flushed with arousal, and tiny beads of sweat dotted his head.
“I’m safe for you now,” he said, a thick accent entering his words.
She had no idea what that meant, but it seemed to be important to him. “Okay,” she said, happy to agree to anything that got his mouth back on hers.
He looked like he was about to pull away, so she grabbed his head and held him still while she kissed him.
He groaned into her mouth, the sounds edged with a sexy hint of a growl. Her nipples hardened at the deep vibration, and she felt a slick pulse of heat ease from her core.
No other man had ever made her this hot, this fast. With Talan, her whole body seemed to go into overdrive, passing all warm-ups, straight to scorching heat.
“Krotian may come,” he said against her mouth.
“Let him. I’m armed.”
“I won’t let you fight.”
“Fine. Then you can kill him. I don’t care as long as he’s dead and I can get my mouth on you.”
His big body shuddered, and the power of all those muscles became instantly, acutely evident. She was surrounded by him, covered by him. Now all she needed was to get those clothes out of the way.
“You’re going to accept me.”
Again his words weren’t making a whole lot of sense, but she wasn’t interested in his conversational skills right now. What she really wanted was to get as much of his bare skin against hers as possible. “Sure, Talan. Whatever you want. Just don’t stop.”
His demeanor changed in an instant, as if she’d flipped some giant switch. All his tense restraint evaporated, leaving behind an intense kind of determination she wasn’t sure if she was woman enough to handle.
He hadn’t taken off his leather jacket yet. She reached for it, intent on sliding it off of those broad shoulders.
Talan grabbed her hands and pushed them away. “Let me.”
She nodded, happy to watch him strip.
He ripped off the jacket, revealing a leather vest covered in the same tiny bits as dangled from the chains in his ear. She recognized some of the items, including the palm-sized disk she’d seen her father play with from time to time. There was no display on it, but the device was still able to convey information in some way she didn’t quite understand.
Too risky, her father had told her. She had to stick to mostly human tech in an effort to blend in, and that disk was far from human.
Talan peeled the vest off next, revealing rows of tiny, multi-colored glass vials and a whole bunch of weapons. She didn’t know what they all did, but she recognized the intent behind them instantly.
He laid the vest within easy reach, never once looking away from her.
“Can I touch you now?” she asked.
He said something in Imonite, his words thick with lust. She only understood a few of the words, but she got the meaning loud and clear. Touching was definitely allowed and encouraged.
Zoe sat up so she could kiss him again, but her mouth only reached as far as his chest. The buttons she’d ripped off earlier made his shirt gape open, giving her easy access to the skin below.
His body was hot against her lips. Hard and smooth, and quivering with restraint. The muscles along his chest tightened as she spread his shirt open and ran her fingers along the delicious contours she’d uncovered.
He let her do as she pleased, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. But as soon as her tongue flicked across his nipple, she could tell she’d pushed him too far. His fingers slid into her hair, clenching into fists. He tilted her head back and bent over her, kissing her like a man starving for her taste.
She opened her mouth for him, denying him nothing. He was careful, moving with restrained power, but he was closer to being completely unleashed than he’d ever been with her. And she loved it.
A rough, rumbling sound rose out of his chest, as if he were growling at himself. The ferocity of his kiss eased, and he pulled away, panting.
The marks of lust were clear on his face. His whole body vibrated like wires strung too tight. She could sense some internal battle waging within him, though she had no idea what it was. All she knew was that one of those sides wanted him to get up and walk away from her, and that was not going to happen.
Zoe grabbed the metal button on his jeans and tugged it open. The outline of his erection was clear beneath the faded denim. She reached inside, sliding her fingers beneath the stretchy band of his boxers and gripped hot, hard flesh.
Everything inside of her rose up in hungry demand. He was hers, and she was going to have him. All of him.