Shards of Hope(184)
“There are rumors of desert eagles, but no confirmation.”
They went silent as the food appeared. Aden had ordered something with lentils, as well as a flatbread and several vegetable dishes. He tore off a piece of the flatbread, held it out. “Try it.”
She took a small bite, chewed, allowing the flavors to settle on her tongue. “I can eat this.” Following his lead, she tried the other dishes, decided some weren’t for her, while the lentil soup tasted good.
They ate slowly, with no rush, nowhere to go. Every so often, the server would come by to top up their water or ask if they needed anything else, but other than that, they were left alone. The conversation flowed as it always did between them; she’d never had to worry about not knowing what to say when it came to Aden.
At one point, they ended up speaking about the mirror, that part of the conversation almost fully telepathic. I was surprised when Walker told me how young you were when you discovered the mirror. I would’ve expected Marjorie and Naoshi to know.
They were Arrows on active duty and around only for short periods. Walker and I first glimpsed the mirror while they were away.
And you just didn’t share the discovery when they returned, Zaira said, guessing he’d used the techniques he’d learned from Walker to hide the mirror’s psychic evidence.
“No, I didn’t.” Aden’s voice held no regret, nothing but a quiet confidence. They’d been telling me I was a weak disappointment as long as I could remember—for all I knew, the mirror was a mutation that would just make things worse. His lips softened unexpectedly, his mental tone different as he added, Walker kept telling me it was a unique gift. That’s what carried me through the years until I realized the mirror’s purpose.
Zaira’s respect and liking for Walker Lauren kept growing. Can you do it without permission? she asked. Draw power? Not like with Vasic when you were children, but with someone who doesn’t have any reason to allow the draw.
He bent close to her, lips brushing her ear. “Yes.” There were circumstances in which I had no choice—I took it from trainers who were hurting children, or from Arrows so far in Silence that they no longer had any idea of conscience. Breath warm against her, he continued to pet her shoulder with those slow, caressing strokes that made her own breath hitch.
I didn’t know at the time that I was making them stronger when I returned the power because I only ever drew a very basic amount—that small draw is why I was never caught. Vasic and I figured out the power differential when I was about fifteen, and that’s when I knew exactly how careful I had to be to avoid detection.
Shifting back from her a little so she could see his face, he said, As for the people from whom I siphoned power without permission, I don’t excuse myself by saying I did it for a good reason. I made a choice to survive, and some of those choices were borderline.
They didn’t sound that way to Zaira, but Aden had always had a far stronger moral compass than she’d ever possess. You worry too much.
His smile lit up his eyes. Will you teach me to play?
It appears I have to. Picking up a piece of fruit from the dessert tray that had been left on the table when the meal was cleared, she held it to his lips. Try this. They’ve put something on it. A faint spice that didn’t overwhelm.
He ate it, and it was intimate, the moment. She didn’t understand why, except that it was Aden. Allowing herself to lean into him, she surrendered to the here and the now, to this instant under the starlight.
* * *
ADEN sensed Zaira relax totally against him, and something tight in him twisted tighter. He’d never felt her this way, never seen her shields fall this low. He could almost see her mind, the veil that hid it from him paper-thin.
It was tempting to tear through it, see all of her, but in so doing, he’d destroy the trust that bound them together and savage her. Never would he do that, no matter how much he craved the piercing intimacy of a true psychic bond, one that would hold even over the greatest distance without any conscious effort.
Fingertips grazing the silk of her upper arm, he sat with her under the stars until the restaurant began to go quiet. Rising to his feet, having already taken care of the bill, he held out a hand, giving her the choice.
Always, he would give Zaira the choice.
When she slid her hand into his without hesitation, he felt a warmth deep within, warmth that curled outward in fine tendrils that infiltrated every cell in his body. Getting up, she walked with him past the other tables and down the steps that hugged the side of the house. Hitting the ground, they began to walk along the narrow roads that formed the village in which this restaurant was located.