Sweep of the Heart

18

When we last left the inn, Kosandion’s date with the Uma candidate, Ellenda, did not go to plan, and her delegation made a move against the Dominion’s Holy Ecclesiarch. Will Dina and Sean manage to eliminate the dangers gathering around the Sovereign? In this week’s episode of Sweep of the Heart…

The prisoner hung from the ceiling of the throne room, his body wrapped in the inn’s restraints. The Kyporo delegation stood under him, grim-faced and ready for some sort of action if only they could figure out what that action might be. Calling them Team Frowns in my head no longer seemed appropriate.

The rest of the delegates had been asked to return to their quarters. Only the Sovereign faction and the observers remained. The feed was going live to the entire Dominion. Kosandion was making a point: he had nothing to hide, from his people or from the rest of the galaxy.

He sat on the throne now, his expression harsh and cold, watching the massive screen behind the prisoner. On it, Tony led Ellenda to the portal. Her head was held high. They stopped before the round gateway. She turned, looked back at the camera, and gave us a brilliant smile.

The lights on the rim of the portal flashed, the green glow swirled, the Uma woman stepped into it, and her presence vanished from the inn.

Kosandion looked at Sean. “What happened?”

“That man tried to kill the Holy Ecclesiarch,” Sean said.

“How?”

“Poison. A microcapsule sealed inside his tooth. He bit it and exhaled the poisoned vapor.”

And Sean sensed it despite being forty feet away. Hundreds of innkeepers had watched him crush that assassination attempt. Not even one would disagree with a simple fact: Sean Evans was amazing.

“The antidote is already in the prisoner’s system,” Sean continued. “He will survive.”

“Unfortunate,” Kosandion said. The word landed like a brick.

The leader of the Kyporo delegation, a spare, ascetic-looking man, stared at Kosandion with open hostility.

The Holy Ecclesiarch smiled. Every time I had seen him, his kind face all but shone with benevolence, but in this moment his expression changed, as if a different man rose from the depths to the surface. Shrewd. Smart. Powerful. It was there for a mere fraction of a second and vanished back into a soft caring smile. Something wasn’t right about this.

“Well,” the holy man sighed. “At least I’m still important enough to be murdered.”

“Obviously, Sar Ramin had a lapse in judgement,” the leader of the delegation ground out. “We had no idea he held such extremist views.”

“How quick you are to throw your people into the fire, Odikas,” Kosandion said.

“He is young and impressionable,” Odikas said. “A group should not be penalized for the actions of one individual, nor should it bear responsibilit—"

“I thought you were a man of vision,” Kosandion said, his voice harsh.

His pose was relaxed, almost languid, but the intensity in his eyes was frightening. His body signaled that he didn’t condescend to view Odikas as any kind of threat, and his face assured that retribution was coming, and it would be swift and brutal.

“Alas, I was wrong, and you are blind. What is it you said about my father? A weakling controlled by a woman, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Resven confirmed, his voice so buttery you could spread it on toast.

“You brought an Uma woman here, because you thought I missed my mother so much, I would forget my duty, lose my mind, and throw away the nation’s interests for a chance to bed someone who looks like my parent.”

The Kyporo delegation collectively winced. Yes. Ew.

The cavernous room was so quiet, you would hear the proverbial pin drop.

“Did you plan to use her to influence my policy decisions, or was I supposed to die once the heir was born, so you could pull her strings and play at being regent?”

Odikas clenched his teeth.

“How long was I supposed to remain alive? Would you have given me the courtesy to see my offspring being born?”

No answer.

Kosandion shook his head slightly. “The Uma value their freedom beyond everything else. You forced Ellenda to come here against her will. If I had chosen her, she would either have killed you or killed herself. All those years you blamed my mother for the reforms my father implemented, and yet you never took the time to learn anything about her people.”

The gray skin on the older man’s cheeks turned darker. Odikas looked a hair from losing it.

Kosandion glanced at Resven. “Explain it to him.”

“You knew Ellenda was in danger of being eliminated when you saw the preliminary rankings,” Resven said. “She refused to debate, so you counted on the date to save you. The moment she reclaimed her freedom, your plans collapsed, so you sent your favorite subordinate to murder the Holy Ecclesiarch in hopes that his death would force us to void the selection and begin again. It is painfully obvious, and yet you’re making excuses, as if the whole world has lost the ability to reason, and you are the only one still thinking.”

A grimace twisted Odikas’ face. He bared his teeth.

Resven stared at him, derision plain on his face. “It’s not the plotting. It’s the sheer, obnoxious stupidity of it that irritates me. A man of grand ambition yet meager talent should at least strive for hiring a capable adviser.”

Wow. I had no idea Resven had it in him. There had to be some history there.

“You!” Odikas choked out.

“Look into the sensors, Odikas,” Resven said. “We are here to witness the funeral of your career. At last, the Dominion is watching just as you always wanted. All eyes are upon you. Are you not pleased? Was it everything you hoped it would be?”

Odikas clenched his fists, choked by his own outrage.

“The Kyporo delegation is disqualified,” Kosandion said. “All their asks and honors are void.”

“You can’t do that!” one of the delegates shouted.

Kosandion looked at him. It was like being on a dark cliff and suddenly having the bright beam of the lighthouse fall upon you.

“For the citizens at home, tell me, Chancellor, can I do that?”

“Absolutely,” Resven said. “The law gives you that power, Letero. The Kyporo delegation knows it does. They have read the contracts and signed them prior to their arrival.”

Kosandion glanced at me. “These people are no longer part of the selection. The Dominion thanks our gracious hosts for their patience in delaying their expulsion at my request. I do not dare to abuse their hospitality any longer.”

I would have to find a way to thank Kosandion. The innkeepers at home were likely wondering why we hadn’t taken any action. He spelled it out in the most deferential way.

My broom split in my hand, revealing its bright blue inner light. The delegates from Kyporo focused on me.

“You’ve attempted to kill another guest on the inn’s grounds. Your guest status is withdrawn. Your belongings wait by the portal.”

The wall at the back of the throne room split, revealing the portal room. The screen showed the Kyporo delegation’s quarters. I collapsed them. Walls folded as if they were coke cans being crushed. Stone columns disintegrated, flowing like melted wax, absorbed back into the inn. Wooden furniture snapped, shattered, and was consumed by the floor. It was a waste, since Gertrude Hunt expended more energy making it than it would get back, but it was worth it. The reputation of the inn was on the line, and the galaxy needed a reminder. Within our domains, we were supreme. We would not tolerate any breach of rules.

The inn opened a hole in the ceiling by the portal and vomited the delegates’ possessions out, packaged into clear plastic-like bags. Had they all participated in trying to kill the Ecclesiarch, I would’ve dramatically expelled them, hurling them into that portal, but only one of them actually carried out the assassination attempt. Besides, I had a feeling Kosandion had more to say.

The Kyporo delegates stared at the growing bag pile, owl-eyed. Things were happening way too fast.

The last bag fell. The inn had purged them.

Miralitt stepped forward. “Prime Councilor Tair Odikas, you stand accused of conspiring to assassinate a citizen of the Dominion, intent to cause grievous harm to a member of the religious order for the purpose of interfering with their duties, bride-purchasing, sapient-being trafficking, and violation of the Second Covenant.”

Ten guards in pale armor emerged from the portal and marched toward us.

The First Covenant of the Dominion spelled out the individual’s rights. The Second Covenant established the federal government, its powers, limitations, and vital functions. Violation of the Second Covenant was a catch-all charge that covered a wide variety of offenses. It was also the main charge against Caldenia.

Miralitt had just branded Odikas a traitor, and the Dominion’s Capital Guard showed up to take him into custody in all its menacing glory.

The dam that contained Odikas’ rage finally broke.

“You’re not fit to rule!” he snarled. “Your father was a weakling, and you are weak just like him. The abomination who murdered him is right there.” He stabbed his finger in Caldenia’s direction. “And you sit in that chair as if all of us have forgotten her colossal sins.”

Caldenia rose and strode toward Odikas. Uh-oh.

“You think you’ve won? Ha!” Spit and word flew out of his mouth. “Who are you to judge me? What have you accomplished? What are your achievements? A feeble offspring of a feeble father, soft, indecisive, and spineless. Your very existence impairs our great nation. You should’ve never been allowed to take the throne. If I had my way, I would’ve smothered—”

Caldenia stopped in front of Odikas. Her hand shot up, and she drove her razor-sharp nails into the soft tissue right under his jaw. Blood spilled from his mouth.

Well, shit.

Odikas clamped his hands on Caldenia’s wrist, trying to pry himself free. She raised her arm.

Odikas’ feet left the ground.

Wow.

Caldenia wasn’t even straining. Odikas hung from her talons, bleeding from his mouth. I had seen her slice through aluminum cans with her nails.

A female delegate lunged forward to help.

Caldenia glanced at her. Her voice cracked like a whip. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

The Kyporo delegation cringed. The woman ducked and backed away.

Her Grace examined Odikas like he was some sort of gross bug. “You always were an odious toad, Tair. Dumb as a rock, to borrow the local expression. I warned you before to mind your mouth.”

Odikas gurgled. More blood came out.

“Your Grace…” I started.

“I haven’t killed him yet, Dina. I’ve only shredded his tongue. The day is yet young.”

Odikas made a tortured noise. I needed to stop this.

“Aunt,” Kosandion said softly. “Perhaps this one time due process might be a better path forward? Out of consideration for the patience of our gracious hosts?”

Caldenia sighed and dropped Odikas. He landed on the floor. She smelled his blood on her fingers, gave him a small, refined sneer, and shook it off.

“Thank you,” Kosandion said.

He motioned to the guards, and they grabbed Odikas and hauled him to his feet.

Sean glanced at the prisoner still suspended from the ceiling. The inn’s tendrils unrolled, lowering the captive onto the floor. He took a deep breath and blinked, clearly disoriented. The guards closed in, and two of them sandwiched the would-be assassin between them.

“Form a column,” one of the guards ordered.

The delegates obeyed without a word. The guards led them to the pile of their belongings. Each of the delegates grabbed a single bag and one by one, they walked through the portal.

I had no idea what the innkeepers watching this would make of it.

“We’ll reconvene tomorrow,” Kosandion announced.

I opened the doors to their quarters. Kosandion strode off, his people behind him. Gaston offered Caldenia his arm. They walked away. He said something and Caldenia laughed softly.

Sean approached. I took his hand. He squeezed my fingers.

“You are awesome,” I whispered.

“No, just fast.”

The observers walked past me toward their quarters. Karat made big eyes at me. Dagorkun was grinning. Cookie was next.

I pulled the floor under Cookie’s feet toward us. To his credit, he didn’t jump in surprise. The floor brought him to us and stopped.

“A word?” I asked.

“Of course.” Cookie nodded.

“We need some information,” Sean said.

Cookie fluffed his tail and squinted his eyes. I had seen that exact expression on Nuan Cee’s face. It meant trouble.

“Tell me more,” Cookie purred.

It was two hours until midnight. I sat on the terrace of the Ocean Dining Room savoring a cup of oolong tea and gently rocking in a rocking chair I had stolen from our patio. Sean sat in the other chair, drinking decaffeinated coffee. It was late and he didn’t want to be wired. Beast napped by the rail, while Gorvar had somehow climbed on top of the other table and lay there, his tongue out. He liked being high up.

The deep amber ocean of Kolinda shimmered with bioluminescent sparks, as if the setting sun had bled its glowing lifeblood into the waters and now it flickered in the depths. The air was warm and smelled of salt and sea.

To our left and slightly behind, the interior of the Ocean Dining Hall glowed with honey-colored light of its chandeliers like a giant garden lantern. It was quiet and mostly empty. The floor to ceiling wall of glass that separated it from the terrace was almost invisible.

Just inside the Ocean Dining Hall, Orro slumped in a big chair at a round table, an exhausted heap of dark quills. The taller of his assistants had curled up on the floor, the other crawled into a chair and passed out. Droplet had pushed two chairs together, climbed onto them, and wrapped her fluffy tail like a blanket around herself. None of them noticed me quietly reshaping the chairs and the floor under them into comfortable loungers so they could stretch out. The food on their table remained mostly untouched.

It had been a long day. All remaining delegations decided to discuss Kyporo’s expulsion, and all of them wanted to do it over dinner in their individual quarters at different times. The kitchen staff was exhausted.

I was exhausted too. After we dealt with Odikas and the Kyporo delegation, Kosandion went on a date with the Donkamin candidate. The candidate had requested a “plain room with nothing in it,” which was exactly what I provided. Kosandion and the Donkamin stood for an hour inside the empty room, discussing scientific advancement. It was intellectually boring and visually disturbing.

On the way back, the Donkamin candidate nearly collapsed in the hallway. I caught him before he fell to the floor. Apparently, Donkamins didn’t do well when they were separated from their group, and they also found us grotesque and incredibly disgusting. Once I delivered the candidate to his rooms, they asked me for a purifying pool so they could wash my molecules off the candidate’s body. The purifying liquid was complicated and took forever to make.

The ocean shimmered. Amber lights in front of us, warm yellow glow behind. Sean and I sat in the narrow strip of shadow and watched the waters under an endless sky, studded with alien stars and so deep that looking at it for too long filled you with vague unease.

My earpiece chirped steadily, delivering a successive assortment of the Dominion’s news broadcasts into my ear. The fall of Tair Odikas was the talk of the nine star systems.

Olasard padded out of the dining hall on his fluffy paws and hopped into my lap. I put my tea on the small side table between my and Sean’s chair and stroked the cat’s back.

According to the newscasts, the saga of Tair Odikas stretched back many years, long before Kosandion was born. Four centuries ago, Kyporo faced a crisis. The planet’s population had outpaced its natural resources while its space technology was in its infancy. Kyporo joined the Dominion to save itself.

Before the unification, Kyporo had a rigid, striated society with sharply defined social castes, while the Dominion adhered to the belief that every citizen had the same rights. The integration of Kyporo was slow, difficult, and took centuries. Officially the castes had been abolished, but the citizens of Kyporo had good memories.

Odikas came from a long line of patricians, the highest caste of Kyporo. His great-grandfather was the Prime Councilor, revered and venerated, and on the rare occasions he had condescended to leave the hallowed halls of the Grand Council and stepped into the street, among the commoners, people of lesser castes knelt and touched their foreheads to the ground.

No matter how much education and cultural exposure they had, some people craved to be bowed to.

Odikas followed in the footsteps of his ancestors, climbing to the post of the highest elected official, resisting change, and doing his best to block the Dominion’s attempts to integrate the planet. His highest aspiration in life was to resurrect the old customs. He wanted to step outside his palace and see an ocean of bent backs with not a single person daring to meet his gaze. He would’ve rebelled if he could, but the Dominion managed Kyporo wisely, leaving them with little military autonomy, and the public sentiment among the younger generations wasn’t on Odikas’ side. Once the genie of freedom came out of the bottle, it was hard to put it back in.

For the forty years he was in office, Odikas flirted with separatism, made grand pronouncements about national identity and independence, and hated Kosandion’s father, who had removed the last vestiges of the old social system. When Caldenia murdered her brother, the Dominion was already facing an external threat from an alien species and domestic unrest on several fronts. His death struck the seven star systems like a meteor, causing numerous fractures. Odikas had taken full advantage of that. Kyporo was the last planet to accept Kosandion as the Sovereign, and Odikas and his faction continued to be a massive pain in the ass through his reign. Until today.

Sean pulled the earpiece out and put it on the side table between us. I took mine out as well.

“I scanned the Holy Ecclesiarch when he went to his quarters.”

Sean glanced at me.

“He’s in perfect health,” I said. “I mean he is elderly, but there is nothing inherently wrong with him. He could live another decade or two. You don’t seem surprised.”

“He doesn’t smell like a sick man on his deathbed.”

“Do really sick people smell different?”

“Usually.”

“I think Kosandion knows. I think this whole thing with the deathly ill Ecclesiarch is a sham.”

“He’s using us to clean house,” Sean said. “The Ecclesiarch’s illness is a pretext to bring everyone here and isolate them from their allies back at the Dominion. Now he can deal with them one by one.”

“You think there will be more like Odikas?”

Sean nodded. He was contemplating something.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

“Kosandion is dangerous. For Odikas it wasn’t just politics. It was personal. Kosandion recognized it, so he backed Odikas into a corner and gave him just enough rope to hang himself.”

“He is Caldenia’s nephew.”

“And that’s what worries me. I’d like to know in advance if he’s planning to settle more scores.”

Olasard stretched in my lap and turned over. We’d been so busy, I had neglected our usual cuddles, and he was determined to get all the petting he was owed. I scratched his chin.

“I can ask Her Grace. If anyone knows, she would.”

“Would she tell you?”

“I don’t know, but the worst she can do is say no.”

Sean pondered the ocean. “Every time George gets involved, things get complicated.”

“If things weren’t complicated, there would be no need for George. That’s the whole point of him.” I sighed.

“Kosandion should just marry him and be done with it.”

“The galaxy wouldn’t survive. Also, George is already married, and Kosandion isn’t foolish enough to fight Sophie for him.”

The inn tagged me. The Higgra delegation wanted to talk. I pulled up a screen to their habitat. With the Dushegubs, I didn’t bother, I just projected the disembodied voice, but the Higgra would want a visual.

The habitat appeared on the screen, a dense space of real and synthetic trees interrupted by jutting rocks with smooth tops and conveniently placed soft perches. Cyanide sprawled on the nearest perch, her huge white paws dangling over the side. Her golden eyes focused below my face and widened.

“Why did you pick him up?”

I glanced down at Olasard.

“I didn’t. He jumped into my lap on his own.”

“Why?”

“He wanted attention.”

Olasard tilted his head to give me better access to his jaw and flashed his emerald-green eyes at Cyanide.

The two cats stared at each other.

A minute passed.

Another.

“Is there something you wanted?” I asked.

“Yes.” Cyanide frowned in a weird cat way, her muzzle going slack, her forehead wrinkling.

Olasard kneaded my knee with his claws gently and looked at me. I held out my hand. Gertrude Hunt dropped a brush into it, and I began gently brushing his soft gray fur.

Cyanide lifted herself up on her forelegs and leaned all the way into the screen.

Olasard purred.

“What was it you wanted?” I prompted.

“It’s not important.”

The call cut off.

Okay then.

Sean narrowed his eyes, looking up into the sky above Kolinda’s ocean.

“What’s the matter?”

“Something is coming.”

I looked in the direction of his stare. A white star detached from the heavens above the horizon and streaked toward the inn, slicing through the air at shocking speed.

Sean bared his teeth. “A Muterzen pirate cruiser.”

I let Olasard off my lap, stood up, and planted the broom into the floor. Its shaft split, exposing its glowing inner core. A shoot of the inn slid through the floor and wrapped itself around the staff, binding us into one.

The cruiser was clearly visible now, a big, strange shape, as if six giant barrels had been bound together into a space caltrop bristling with weapons.

Behind me Droplet let out an alarmed screech.

The two forward-facing barrels ignited with brilliant red.

I sank my consciousness into the inn, merging with Gertrude Hunt, and raised the void field.

The barrels flashed. Twin warheads shrieked through the air toward us. Time slowed, and I watched them spin as they hurtled straight for the inn.

A phantom breeze stirred the hem of my robe.

The warheads met my invisible void field and detonated. A wall of blinding white fire drenched the space in front of us. Water exploded straight up, like a tsunami, flowing over the invisible dome above us, all of it silent.

The inn didn’t shudder. The air current didn’t change. The lights didn’t flicker. No sound penetrated. The terrace and the hall behind us remained as tranquil as ever. I had spread the void field over the entire island.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Droplet standing on the table. Every hair on her body stood on end. She looked like a cartoon squirrel who’d been electrocuted. The two assistants cowered behind her.

Orro opened one eye, glanced at the incoming cruiser, yawned, waved at Droplet with a limp hand, and fell back asleep.

Sean got up and pulled off his robe. He wore a dark combat suit underneath. The subcutaneous armor that masqueraded as his tattoos expanded, sliding in a black wave over his neck. He held a knife with a green-edged blade. His eyes were clear and bright.

The water drained down. Alien fish and long serpentine creatures rolled and slid over the void field dome, tumbling back into the orange depths.

Sean pulled a thick inn branch out of the floor. It wound around him.

“I need a hole,” Sean said.

Being in love with a werewolf: enjoying unwavering support interrupted by moments of intense terror. This was a terror moment. He trusted me, and I had to trust him.

The cruiser hovered right in front of us. They couldn’t believe it. They had come in for a closer look.

I split the void field, parting it like pages of a book.

The branch grasping Sean snapped, flinging him into the air. Gorvar jumped up on his table and let loose an eerie, hair-raising howl. Sean landed on top of the cruiser and stabbed it.

Yep, that’s exactly what I thought he would do.

The knife carved through hull steel like it was butter. Sean’s body broke, expanding into a large shape in a blink. Dark fur sheathed his head. He grasped the edge of the ballistic plate with his clawed hand and tore it off. It fell into the water, and he dropped into the hole he made.

I reinstated the void field and sat back in my chair.

Gorvar kept howling.

The cruiser hovered in place. They had to have seen him cut his way in. They thought they could either kill him or neutralize him.

“Awoooo!!!”

“Come here,” I called.

The big wolf leaped off the table and ran over to me.

“He will be fine,” I told him, petting his furry shoulder. “This is what he does.”

The lupine beast sat next to me and stared at the cruiser. I did, too. Judging by the size, it had a crew of anywhere between 50-100, and all of them would be armed and used to close-quarters combat. Sean had his claws and a knife. I exhaled slowly, trying to vent my anxiety with it.

Gertrude Hunt moved the screen it had sprouted for Cyanide in front of me. I looked at it. A call from Cookie’s quarters. I accepted the communication, and the little lees appeared on the screen.

“Good news,” he said. “Everything your contact told you checked out. I have independent verification from multiple sources. He is a pirate prince.”

The cruiser shuddered. The void field ate the sound, but it looked like something might have exploded.

“That’s great,” I said.

“Does he have access to any outside communications?” Cookie asked.

“No. He is completely isolated.”

Cookie nodded. “That’s good. That’s very good. They can’t warn him.”

The cruiser listed to the right and began to spin in slow motion, moving away from the inn.

“Why would they know to warn him?” I asked.

“There were complications.”

The cruiser was upside down now, its barrels turning randomly.

“You promised to be careful.”

Cookie looked taken aback. “I’m always careful. But they were very alert. I think they know that we suspect, or they suspect that we know.”

“You don’t say.”

The cruiser broke in half. Explosions flashed in the gap. The stern half slid and plunged into the ocean, sending another massive wave toward us. Watching it all without the sound felt surreal.

“I wanted to warn you in case they attempt to attack. Forewarned is forearmed.”

“Thank you, but your timing sucks.”

I turned the screen so he could see the remaining chunk of the cruiser slowly slide toward the waves.

“Oooooooh,” Cookie said.

Tony came striding out of the dining hall and said in a great imitation of an English accent. “I felt a great disturbance… Oh hell.”

The remaining half of the cruiser landed in the waters and broke apart.

“Did you fire at it?” Tony asked.

I shook my head.

Tony looked around. “Where is Sean?”

“Take a wild guess.”

He stabbed his finger at the fracturing hull of the sinking cruiser. “Is Sean in there?”

I nodded.

“How…?”

“He used the inn to throw himself at it.”

“Does he know you have anti-aircraft weapons?”

“He does. He installed half of them. He is making a statement.”

Tony landed in Sean’s chair. I dismissed Cookie’s screen and watched the underwater explosions flash.

“Does he do this kind of thing a lot?” Tony asked.

“Define ‘a lot.’”

“I’m sorry,” Tony said. “This must be very stressful.”

“Not as stressful at it is for the pirates inside. He is slaughtering them in there.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Tony said.

“I know. Thank you for caring. It is stressful, but I picked him, and I have no regrets.”

We sat quietly for a few moments. The cruiser was almost completely submerged now. Only a corner of the hull protruded above the waves. The sea around the wreck churned, as the local wildlife realized there were delicious meaty bits inside.

Sean was a good swimmer. I held on to that thought like a life preserver.

“I spoke to my dad,” Tony said. “We are more popular than the Super Bowl. Everyone is watching.”

There would be more excitement tomorrow. “Did he have any advice?”

“He says we’re doing great. He’s surprised we haven’t killed a Dushegub yet.”

It had become my personal goal to get through this mess without losing any of the guests while they were on the inn’s grounds, Dushegubs included.

“Two more challenges left,” Tony said.

“Yes.” The talent challenge was next. “Do you think he will hand out roses tomorrow at the elimination ceremony?”

Tony cracked a smile. “We can only hope.”

A bright red flash announced another explosion. I sighed.

“Do you want me to go help him?” Tony asked.

I shook my head. “It’s a matter of trust. I have to trust that Sean wouldn’t take on anything he couldn’t handle.”

Tony nodded, rose, patted my shoulder, and walked away.

Five minutes later I dropped the void field and watched human Sean climb up onto the balcony. He was wet from head to toe, but otherwise uninjured. He straightened and grinned. I put my arms around his dripping body and kissed him. His face was cold, but his lips were warm, and he tasted just as I remembered. He squeezed me to him. Gorvar whined, circling around us.

“Sorry,” Sean breathed into my ear.

“That wasn’t cool.”

“It was a little bit cool.”

“No.”

“Admit it, you were impressed.”

I shook my head.

He laughed and there was no better sound.