But now, with daylight striking the tension in her back, he knew she’d reconsidered. In her own sleep she’d rebuilt that last wall and had awakened with renewed purpose. No matter what had happened between them, she was going to head for that island. She was still going to try for the Source.
And he couldn’t be the one to stop her.
Sitting up, he positioned himself behind her but didn’t touch her rigid body. He feared what he might say, so he didn’t speak.
When she finally opened her mouth, she spoke to the floor between her knees. “I don’t want to be the Queen anymore. And I don’t want to die.”
He couldn’t help it; his heart soared. The stars seemed to blink all around him, sparkling motes in the daylight, as though they’d answered his prayers to make her change her mind. They would figure out another way to both help her people and mollify the Children of Earth. They would—
“But if I don’t make it,” she added quietly, “I want you to know something first.”
He gripped handfuls of bedspread. The air stilled around them. He could barely breathe. “What?”
“That I l—” She looked down, chin to chest. When she raised her head, he couldn’t see her face. Only the generic painting of a breaching humpback whale on the opposite wall had that privilege.
She said, “I love you.”
The words hit him like an arrow, slicing through skin and bone to reach his heart. He released the bedspread and lifted a hand, his palm hovering just above her shoulder blade, her heat a beacon.
His hand descended, wanting to tell her with a touch that he felt the same. Perhaps more, if that was even possible. But before he could make contact she bolted from the bed and lunged for the bathroom. The door slammed behind her, the click of the lock following two seconds later. The shower came on, full blast.
The euphoria died with her exit.
She loved him. He’d come here to stop her and had lied his way into her presence.
She loved him. He was withholding from her a terrible piece of information about the severity of the Source and its capability for destruction.
She loved him. He absolutely understood what she had to do to save her people.
She loved him. He loved her.
Nothing good could come of it.
Fuck.
• • •
Keko never spent this long underwater. She’d never wanted to. But her fingers and toes had gone pale and wrinkled, and she still made no effort to remove her hands from where they were braced on the shower wall. Still didn’t want to duck out of the spray hitting her body and covering it in smooth sheets.
Her head dropped and the water shot over her skull, crawling over her shoulders and down her back. Between her legs. She imagined being back under the waterfall in the ravine. She imagined Griffin sliding all around her.
Mighty Queen, she prayed silently, why didn’t you tell me love was such a weakness? Why didn’t you tell me it could be such a strength?
Keko had nearly quit her quest last night. Griffin had been moving inside her and she’d looked up at him and actually thought to herself, I can’t do it. I can’t leave him. I can’t chance ending this.
Then she realized that even though the distinct emotion she felt emanating from him was very real, it was all still part of his argument to get her to abandon her quest. It didn’t matter that he knew her true reason for going after the Source, or even if he agreed with her; he hadn’t made any vow to stop trying to get her to turn around. Last night he said he would think about tomorrow, tomorrow. Well, tomorrow was here, and she thought that when she stepped out of this bathroom he might use her confession of love against her. He might touch her and beg her not to chance death. For him.
She should hate him for that, but she didn’t. She shouldn’t love him, but she did.
And that was why love was a strength and a weakness. Because at that very moment she felt incredibly emboldened, like she could conquer and accomplish anything, yet it was her love for him that was holding her back. Making her doubt her own purpose and the inherent risks. She could not let doubt take over.
This morning she would give Griffin a choice: help her reach the Source without complaint or asking her to turn back, or return to the mainland and let her do what she must. Regardless of his decision, she would hunt for her people’s cure. Either way, it would likely be the end of them.
First, however, she would bring him under the water with her. To feel close to him one last time in the presence of his element.
Leaving the spray on, she climbed out of the tub and stepped from the bathroom.
The outer door to their room was ajar and the long, kinked cord between the phone and the receiver stretched from the nightstand all the way to the front porch. Griffin was outside, shirtless, shorts back on, his ass against the railing, sunlight on his back. The receiver was to his ear. He was already pale, but when his unfocused eyes cleared and he finally noticed her standing in the middle of the room, soaking wet and naked, his olive skin lost even more color.
“I understand,” he mumbled into the phone. “I have to go.”
He came back inside, shutting out most of the light in the room when the door closed behind him. Going to the nightstand, he replaced the receiver on the cradle. Far too slowly.
Her heart felt like it had dropped into her feet, and she couldn’t say why. “Who was that?”
His fingers dragged off the phone and he finally looked at her, taking his sweet time to answer. “The premier’s been murdered.”
All air punched out of her chest, but did not result in flame. “What?”
“His wife found him dead. Couple of hours ago. Throat slit.”
Her hand flew to her neck in sympathetic horror. “My god. Who did it? Why?”
“Aaron said it was one of their own. Someone who didn’t want to pay his debts. That’s all I know.”
“Is Aaron the new premier?”
He rubbed at his chin, then scratched fingers up and down his cheek. The gesture unsettled her even more.
“Ah, no,” he said haltingly. “The other delegates haven’t voted a new one in yet. They’re . . . waiting.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Voting is usually immediate. I’ve been through two other premiers.” She bent to pick up her shirt and saw only the tatters of the tank top he’d ripped apart last night, so she threw on his black T-shirt instead, pulling the bottom tight around her waist and tying it in a knot. Snagging her jeans from the floor, shoving her legs into them and yanking up the zipper, a sudden realization hit her with the speed and pain of a bullet. “Wait a second.”
She looked up to find Griffin staring at her. Guilt made a single line of his eyebrows and she felt like the Queen had reached down from the sky and snatched the earth from under Keko’s feet. “I didn’t hear the phone ring.”
“You were in the shower.” It was nearly a whisper.
Though she couldn’t move, her voice jumped up a couple of notches. “But I didn’t hear the phone ring.”
“It did.” The words came out of his mouth sounding sticky-dry.
“How’d they know where to find you?”
He swallowed and it looked like it hurt. He even winced.
“How the fuck did they know where to find you?”