“I’m going to break open that stiff and proper Ofarian mind of yours yet.” Her chuckle rolled into a full-on laugh and at last he allowed himself to be pulled away from the party.
“Where are we going?” It was dark outside the fire circle and he’d lost his bearings. “I want to see your house. The one you told me about with the hammock and the door that looks out over the valley.”
Her fingers tightened in his but she didn’t reply. She found a narrow dirt path that cut through an overgrown sweep of some sort of native Hawaiian plant, and led him up a small rise. When they came out of the brush and the moonlight struck the long, low white building, Griffin understood where she’d brought him.
“That house I told you about?” she said. “It’s not really mine anymore. But neither is this place. I want to tear it down, send the people who live here back to their families. Where they belong.”
Griffin pulled her into him, her whole length flush with his body. The Source was a second heartbeat against him and he loved it.
“I think you’re amazing,” he said, touching her face. She reached up to mirror his movement, her fingers skating over the small burn on his temple. “So where are we sleeping tonight?”
“I never said anything about sleeping.”
• • •
In the morning, under a rolling, cloudy sky and amidst the remnants of last night’s celebration, Bane and Makaha faced off.
Keko stood far to the side, well away from the action, knowing that the ali’i position at stake was going to make this a challenge for the ages. Her baser Chimeran instincts longed for this, to see what the warriors would bring. Bane, always aggressive, always skillful, would be a force. And just last night he’d been forced to watch his lover with another. He’d always successfully used emotion to enhance his battles. But Makaha owned his namesake ferocity; he had something serious to prove and was coming fresh off a defeat of Griffin.
Earlier, at sunrise, Griffin had reached for her, sliding a hand over the bare skin on her hip. It was still astonishing to her that he could fuck her with such biting passion and then touch her with such tenderness. She hoped that he would continue to astonish her for a very, very long time.
“Who do you want to win?” he’d asked.
She’d just looked at him, confused. “It’s not about what I want.”
“Ah.” His favorite word, when it came to things Chimeran. His brow furrowed. “So all that you said last night about worthiness and weakness doesn’t apply here?”
“They both want to lead the clan. They have to prove themselves to the people. They aren’t being judged on what they don’t have, or something out of their control. They’re being measured by their actual abilities. Makes perfect sense to me.”
He sat up, flinging aside the blanket they’d used when they finally passed out naked under the stars—because she couldn’t yet stand to be enclosed after having endured being Within. The early morning light was very kind to his body.
“Makaha is at a distinct disadvantage against Bane,” he said.
“Seemed to do just fine against you.” Keko poked him. “You just don’t want him to win because he kicked your ass.”
He snorted. “Anything I might say in my defense would come off as weak to you, I’m sure. But yes, he did kick my ass.”
Later, with Griffin standing next to her on the grass, they watched Makaha defeat Bane.
The valley roared its approval over Makaha’s valiant fight and his ability to overcome. The clan swarmed around their new ali’i as Keko went to her brother.
Bane stood tall and strong despite looking like he wanted to collapse to the ground in fatigue and disappointment. She wanted to hug him—a strange, non-Chimeran urge—but knew she could not. Not ever, not without hurting him. So she said, “I’m proud of you.”
Breathing heavily, he bowed with two fists across his chest.
Then she went to Makaha. The people parted to let her through. The ali’i’s chest pumped with the last bits of adrenaline and a powerful air of dignity she hadn’t witnessed in him in years.
“It’s good to have you back, my friend,” she told him.
He pushed back his long, sweat-soaked hair. The smile he gave her was huge and honest and full of a happiness she’d never witnessed in an ali’i.
She found Griffin perched on top of a picnic table, his feet set on the bench, twirling a long yellow flower between his palms.
“That’s who you wanted to win,” he said as she fit her body between his knees.
“Maybe.” She glanced all around, taking in her valley. Her home.
He set down the flower and turned serious. “I have to go back. To San Francisco.”
She nodded, but it must have come too slowly or she must have done a crappy job of disguising her disappointment, because he quickly added, “I’m not leaving you.”
“I know. I know you aren’t.”
“I have to get back to my people. Gwen said things are getting testy, probably the worst they’ve ever been. I’m going to have a fight on my hands.”
“Shit, really?”
He nodded, lips tightly pressed together. “I owe the Ofarians an explanation for my absence. They need to know what’s happened with you and the Chimerans and the Senatus straight from me, and it needs to be sooner rather than later. And I really, really want to see Henry.”
“Griffin, you don’t have to explain. You’re a leader.”
“And now you are, too.” He swept a hand over her hair and her scalp tingled. “I’m coming back. In fact I’m sort of looking forward to sleeping with you on the dirt again. Unless you want to find us an actual bed while I’m away.”
He meant it to be funny, but it struck hard in her heart, mixing with all the things she still needed to tell him. All the things she’d been straightening out in her head.
“What is it?” he asked, because he was starting to know her so well.
“Can I drive you to the Hilo airport?”
“You want to be my chauffeur again? Talk about coming full circle.”
That pulled a small smile out of her. “I’m still going to make you carry your own bag. But I want to take you someplace else first. And, yes, I’m driving.”
Several hours later, after speeding northwest along the coastal highway straightaways and swerving daringly around the turns, she pulled the battered yellow Jeep into the gravel along the side of the road.
Griffin gaped at the scene out the windshield, motionless. Finally they climbed out and met in front of the car’s grille. They were back in the rainy part of Hawaii, and the water droplets made hollow splooshes on the car hood and quieter splashes in the puddles at their feet.
“What are we doing back here?” he asked.
Keko gazed up at the B and B in which more than their goals had changed. Boards had been hammered over the window and door of their former room. The sight of it made her throat tight.
Griffin finally noticed and gasped. “What happened? It was fine when I left.”
“My magic. It was too much, contained in too tight a space. It must’ve combusted and started a fire. I was watching. I saw you run off, and then the fire broke out. I ran back here, put it out, but it had already done some damage.” She shook her head and finally had to look away. “I did that. I didn’t mean to, but it’s someone’s business, someone’s life. And now it’s unusable because of me. But you know the worst part about it?”
“What?”
“I desperately want to make it up to the people who own this place. I want to help them, pay them back for what I did, but I can’t.”
Griffin took her arm and turned her to face him. “Sure you can.”
“No, I mean like I can’t.” She pointed a finger back down the highway, in the direction of the valley from which they’d come. “You see how we live. How little we have. Even if I wanted to pay for damages or a whole new B and B—which I do—I can’t because I literally don’t have a cent of my own.”