UntilMidnight

AN ALIENATED SHORT

B Y M E L I S S A L A N D E R S

Copyright © 2014 by Melissa Landers

All rights reserved. Published by Hyperion, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,

electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For

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ISBN 978-1-4847-2834-5

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Twenty-four hours pre-departure

Cara

Even in deep space, Cara had a curfew.

She’d thought that leaving Earth would buy her a little

freedom, but sneaking out of the house in Midtown was a

cakewalk compared to giving her brother the slip on board an inter-

galactic transport.

In their parents’ absence, Troy had crowned himself chaperone—

rather ironic considering he’d served a hundred hours for school

truancy, and she was the class valedictorian. But no matter. What

Cara lacked in stealth she made up for in persistence.

From her place on the bottom bunk, she stared up at Troy’s mat-

tress and waited for his breathing to deepen. When the first of his

thunderous snores rumbled in the darkness, she peeled back her blan-

ket and rested her boots on the floor. In sneaky ninja steps, she crept

across the room until she reached the door. Sweet victory was so close

she could almost taste it, but then she palmed the keypad, and the

door retracted with a loud hiss that ruined everything.

Like a jack-in-the-bunk, Troy bolted upright and asked, “Where’re

you going?”

Cara sighed and hung her head. “The bathroom,” she lied. “Go

back to sleep.”

“I’ll come with you.”

5

“No way,” she said, rounding on him. “This isn’t a team effort.”

Undeterred, he swung both legs over the edge of his bed and

hopped down.

“Seriously,” she added. “I don’t want company.”

When he started lacing up his combat boots, she knew she’d lost

the battle. “It’s not like I’m gonna watch,” he said with an eye roll.

“I’ll wait outside the door.”

“And listen?”

“Chill out.”

“Says the guy following me to the bathroom!”

Troy raked a hand through his dark curls and fired a glare that

reminded her of the time she’d thrown up in the backseat of his

Camaro. But in her defense, she’d begged him to stop spinning

doughnuts on the snowy school parking lot that day.

“Look,” he said. “Humans aren’t winning any popularity contests

around here. The L’eihrs are pissed. And if they want a scapegoat for

what happened in Lanzhou, there are only two candidates within

lynching distance.” He pointed back and forth between them. “So

suck it up, buttercup. I’m your bathroom buddy.”

Cara gripped both hips and stared him down. On one hand, she

understood his mistrust. The reception aboard their transport had

been a bit chilly in the week since a group of extremists killed a

L’eihr student on Earth. But the L’eihrs wanted her there. In fact, her

participation in the exchange program was one of the requirements

for continued alliance negotiations between their worlds. If the Elders

wanted her dead, she’d be in a cryogenic box right now, not on her

way to an alien high school.

“So your only concern,” she said, “is for my safety, right?”

“No,” he drawled, cocking his head to the side. “I follow you

around because you’re so damned fascinating.” When she showed him

her most fascinating finger, he threw both hands in the air and admit-

ted, “Yeah, fine. Safety first.”

6

“Good,” she chirped. “If protection is the only issue, then you

won’t mind Aelyx taking your place.” Before Troy had a chance to

argue, she added, “He’s faster than you and twice as strong. Plus, he

can use Silent Speech, and he knows every nook and cranny on the

ship. He’s the bazooka to your slingshot.”

Troy folded both arms and looked down his nose at her. “Dude’s a

clinger. I don’t like the way he hovers around you all the time.”

“That’s because he loves me.”

“Enough to keep his bazooka in his pants?”

“Oh, God.” She slapped the keypad to reopen the door, then

walked out and called over her shoulder, “Grow up, Troy.”

He followed her down the hallway in quick strides that made his

military-issue dog tags tinkle. “It weirds me out when a guy looks at

my sister like that. Sue me.” He pointed at the washroom entrance as

she breezed past it. “Hey, I thought you had to—” Troy cut off with

a glare, no doubt realizing the truth. “You didn’t need to go. You just

wanted to see him.”

Cara smiled sweetly. “And you claim you’re not the smart one.”

“I never said that.”

“You sure?” she asked. “Guess it must’ve been me.”

When they reached Aelyx’s room at the other end of the hall, she

held up a finger in warning and told Troy, “One more day. That’s all

I get before he goes back to Earth, and then God only knows when

I’ll see him again. Do not ruin this for me.”

For a long time, Troy watched her in silence. Then he pinched the

bridge of his nose and grumbled, “Do you have your com-sphere?”

She delved into her pocket and held up her sphere for show.

“If I call,” he said, “you have to answer.”

“I promise.”

“Even if you’re”—he made a face—“busy.”

“Please don’t go there. I said yes.”

“And make sure you stay with him.”

7

“That’s the point,” she said. “Tomorrow’s our last day, remember?”

Troy reached out a hand like he wanted to pat her on the shoulder

and say, Make good choices, but lucky for both of them, he withdrew it

just as quickly and retreated to their room. Once he was out of sight,

she tapped a fingernail on the door in front of her.

It slid open instantly.

Aelyx stood on the other side, leaning against the jamb with one

booted foot crossed over the other. He tucked a lock of hair behind

one ear, his warm, silvery gaze moving over her in a way that never

failed to turn her knees to oatmeal. “I thought he’d never leave,”

Aelyx murmured, unleashing a lethal smile.

“Hi,” was all Cara could say. He had that effect on her sometimes.

His smile widened. “Hi.”

“Alone at last, huh?”

From somewhere in the darkness, a girl called, “In or out, Aelyx.

I can’t sleep with the hallway light in my face.” And then, “Hello,

Cah-ra.”

“Oh.” Cara frowned. “Hey, Elle.” She’d forgotten that Aelyx’s

sister was rooming with him. So much for being alone.

Aelyx stepped into the hall and took her hand. “Come with me,”

he said. “I know a quiet place we can go.”

The anchor of his touch was so powerful that Cara barely noticed

in which direction he led her. She watched their hands as they walked,

admiring the flexing tendons in his wrist and his long fingers laced

among hers. Something about the contrast of their skin had always

captivated her. Where she was pale and freckled, a bluish web of veins

visible beneath her flesh, Aelyx’s complexion rivaled that of melted

caramel. Maybe that’s why she loved the sight of their linked hands. It

was a physical reminder that while they came from different worlds,

they fit perfectly together.

For now, she thought. Absence can make the heart grow cold.

No. Cara shook her head to banish the negative thoughts. Aelyx

8

loved her. She’d felt it through Silent Speech, where deception was

impossible. Once he helped mend the alliance, he’d return to L’eihr

and they’d build a new life together on the colony. In the grand

scheme of things, their time apart was a hiccup—she’d said so in

those exact words.

Now she needed to believe it.

But despite that, a gradual ache opened up inside her. It started

as a tiny pinprick of grief, and by the time Aelyx pulled her into

a secluded storage closet, her chest had grown heavy and her eyes

watered with tears. The door had barely shut behind them when she

threw both arms around his neck and hugged him tight enough to

snap his collarbone. If she felt this lonely now, how would she bear it

when he actually left?

She didn’t have to explain. Aelyx drew her into a powerful

embrace, eliminating every atom of space between them until they

melted together as one. He always seemed to know what to do, and

that made her preemptively miss him even more. Resting her head

near his shoulder, she breathed in his exotic scent and let it rush to her

head. No one on Earth would sniff felt-tip markers to get high if they

had access to Aelyx’s neck.

He pulled back and took her face between both palms. “The time

will go by quickly.”

“I know,” she whispered, voice cracking. “But that’s just part of

the problem.”

“Talk to me.”

Cara couldn’t put the bigger issue into words, at least not coherent

ones. There was more weighing on her heart than just a separation.

Maybe the season was to blame. Didn’t psychologists say that depres-

sion skyrocketed at Christmastime? It made sense in her case. This

holiday she wouldn’t taste Mom’s gingerbread, or pretend not to over-

hear when Dad cursed a blue streak after burning his hand on the

turkey fryer. Her brother was there, but they hadn’t lived under the

9

same roof in years. Troy wasn’t her tether to home. Ironically, that

was Aelyx.

And in another day, the connection would break.

“Show me what’s wrong,” he said, tilting their heads together and

softening his gaze for Silent Speech.

Ordinarily, Cara would complain about the mental exertion, but

this time she wanted him to understand. She peered deeply into his

eyes and embraced the pressure building behind her lungs, letting the

homesickness build until Aelyx shut his eyes to close the connection.

“I know what you need,” he said.

“You always do.”

“Come on.” He moved for the door. “I’ll walk you back to your

room.”

“What?” She tugged on his arm to keep him in place. Being apart

from Aelyx wouldn’t cure what ailed her—he of all people should

know that. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re a little off your game

tonight.”

He grinned down at her and arched a brow. “Is that so?”

“Yes, that’s so,” she said, propping a hand on her waist. “For start-

ers, everyone knows you don’t take your girlfriend inside a dark closet

to talk.”

“Forgive me.” In one smooth motion, he pressed her back to the

wall. Then his mouth was at her ear, whispering, “I’ve never had a

l’ihan before.” He brushed his lips down the side of her neck and left

goose bumps in his wake. “I’m still learning.”

“Liar,” she breathed, tilting her head to give him free rein. Maybe

he hadn’t dated many girls, but when it came to making her pulse

gallop, he was a pro. And he knew it. He’d even rocked their first

kiss, despite the fact that L’eihrs didn’t show affection that way. “You

shouldn’t be so good at this,” she groaned. “It’s unnatural.”

He bit the inside curve of her shoulder, then caught her when

both knees gave out. “Are you complaining?”

10

“Unh-uh. Zero complaints.”

“Good.”

Tilting her chin, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers

in the barest whisper of a kiss. It wasn’t enough, but each time she

rose up for more pressure, he maintained control by pulling back. He

teased her like that until she made the embarrassing whiny sound he

loved so much. Only then did he deliver the deep, bone-meltingly

thorough kiss she’d come to expect from him—the kind that curled

all ten toes inside her boots.

After he’d made her breathless, he asked against her mouth, “Do

you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then let me walk you to your room.”

Reflexively, her arms tightened around his neck. “But we only

have one day—”

“Stop saying that,” he told her, pressing a finger to her lips. “We

have a lifetime.”

She pushed away his hand. “You know what I mean.”

“Do you trust me?” he repeated.

Cara let her forehead thunk against his chest. Since resistance was

futile, she blew out a long breath and said, “Fine. You win.”

All the way back to the room, she dragged her feet. When they

stopped in front of her door, Aelyx kissed the top of her head and

smiled like he had a secret.

“I’ll come back in a few hours,” he said.

“A few hours?” she asked in disbelief. Either she hadn’t heard him

right, or he didn’t understand how long that was in “last day” time.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he told her, “and I want you to get some rest.”

“But I don’t—”

His fingertip reappeared at her lips. “Promise you’ll try.”

She nodded, her shoulders rounding in defeat.

11

“If I remember correctly,” he said, “Satan won’t come until you’re

asleep.”

“Satan?” Cara burst out laughing. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll

keep my eyes wide open so as not to summon the devil.”

Aelyx’s smile flatlined. He arched both hands in front of his stom-

ach. “That’s not the obese man who sneaks into your house and leaves

behind lumps of mineralized carbon for fuel?”

Cara cracked up again, twice as hard as before. She loved it when

Aelyx’s lack of understanding trumped his superior IQ. Such occur-

rences were rare but entertaining. “That would be Santa, my alien

friend,” she said, patting him on the chest. “And he leaves presents.

Only the naughty kids get coal.”

He furrowed his brow. “Clearly, I have some research to do.”

“Well, you’ve got plenty of time, because Christmas isn’t for

another week.” She palmed her keypad and said, “I’ll try and sleep.

But don’t keep me waiting too long, okay?”

He backed away and told her to dream of speculums.

She assumed he meant sugarplums.

Cara couldn’t stop grinning to herself. Then she returned to her

bunk and counted the minutes until she could be with him again.

Twenty-two hours pre-departure

Aelyx

Of all the bizarre customs Aelyx had studied during his time

among humans, none perplexed him like the Christmas

holiday. One of Earth’s major religions had claimed the

twenty-fifth day of December to celebrate the birth of their god. Or

that god’s son, depending on who you asked. Others claimed both

men were one and the same. To make matters more confusing, nearly

all rituals surrounding the celebration were rooted in an ancient

pagan festival of the winter solstice. Even the date made little sense, as

historians agreed that Christ could not have been born in December.

Aelyx didn’t understand it at all.

But the holiday meant a great deal to Cara, and that made it

important to him. Which explained why he’d spent the last hour

accessing Earth’s electronic database in search of answers. His query

for Christmas traditions yielded twelve million results. Humans had

their faults, but he admired the way they collected so much informa-

tion on their World Wide Web. He could find anything there, even

instructional videos for the kinds of topics his professors didn’t teach

at the Aegis. Aelyx had allowed Cara to assume he was an excellent

kisser by nature, but in truth, he’d googled it.

Extensively.

13

So now that he’d filled his data tablet with all manner of holiday

merrymaking, the real work could begin: reenacting human customs

with the limited materials on the L’eihr transport. Right away, he

crossed “evergreen wreaths” and “holly berries” off the list, as the

colors green and red didn’t exist on his planet. Nor did natural sugars,

which eliminated candy, cookies, cakes, and sweetbreads. But the act

of hanging socks on the wall as a means of decoration seemed feasible,

if odd. There were plenty of socks on board—some of them even

clean.

He made a stop at the laundry, and then the transport kitchen,

where he put in a request for two special meals. The upgrade cost him

twenty credits, but he didn’t mind. If this brought one smile to Cara’s

face, the expense would be worth it.

For the rest of the night, he labored to make the endmost corner

of the dining hall festive, and when the first passengers shuffled in

for breakfast, he stepped back to admire his work. Not too bad, if he

did say so himself. If he squinted and cocked his head to the side, the

cardboard hearth he’d hung on the wall resembled those he’d seen

on Earth, as did the paper pine tree, despite the fact that it was gray

instead of green. Satisfied, he returned to his bunk to freshen up and

sent Cara a message to do the same.

No matter what she said, today wasn’t their last.

It was just the beginning.

He knocked on her door, and she answered with a bright smile

that told him she’d enjoyed some much-needed sleep. The puffiness

had faded from around her irises, leaving behind the clear, vivid blue

he’d grown to adore. The affection gleaming behind those indigo

eyes made his heart flutter. He loved it when she looked at him this

way—like he’d lit every star in the heavens with a mere snap of his

fingers.

He loved her.

“Mornin’,” she said, pulling her long red hair into a ponytail. “I’m

14

ready for our mystery date. What’s on the agenda?”

Aelyx lifted a pair of new boots he’d borrowed from storage.

“Once you change into these, you’ll find out.”

She glanced at the boots already on her feet. “But—”

“Just take this pair,” he said. “They’re better.”

“If you say so.” She sat down and unlaced her boots, then took a

new one from him and tried to put her foot inside. As intended, she

didn’t get very far. “Is there something in here?” She tipped the boot

upside down until several leafy stalks of l’apoh fell out. Picking one up,

she studied it with narrowed eyes. “Is this some kind of alien celery?”

“Surprise,” Aelyx said, splaying both hands for effect. “We’re cel-

ebrating Christmas a week early!”

“Okay.” Her ivory brow furrowed. “But what does that have to

do with veggies in my boots?”

He shook his head at her. As intelligent as Cara was, she should’ve

made the connection on her own. “On Earth, children put vegetables

in their shoes on Christmas Eve, then leave them on the doorstep for

Santa’s reindeer.”

Her pretty pink lips curved in a smile. “You sure about that?”

“Of course I am,” he said, indicating her laces. “Now, hurry up.

Your letterblanket is getting cold.”

“My what?”

“Really, Cah-ra,” he chided. It was her holiday, not his. “The

cookie in the shape of an ‘S’ for your family’s last name. You’re sup-

posed to eat it the night before Christmas, but since we don’t have any

sweetener, it’s not truly a cookie anyway. More like bread.”

Cara finished tying her boots and joined him in the hallway.

“Sounds great, but I still don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

He fished a bundle of imitation viscum album from his pocket. “Are

you familiar with this? You’re supposed to kiss me if I hold it over

your head.”

“Mistletoe,” she said with a grin. She lifted his hand above her

15

ponytail and moved close enough to put a hitch in his pulse. “Now

that I recognize.”

“Finally.” He was beginning to wonder if he’d misspelled a word

in his Internet query. But when Cara looped both arms around his

neck and rose on tiptoe, his mind shut to everything but the intoxicat-

ing sensations of her mouth against his and the tip of her soft tongue

skimming his upper lip. He groaned and opened to her instantly. The

scent of spiced citrus filled his head, the warmth of her body heating

his blood as they explored and claimed each other all at once. Soon

he found a better use for his hands, and the mistletoe fell to the floor.

Gods alive, he loved kissing her.

It was hard to believe there’d ever been a time when he thought

the practice of kissing was unusual. He couldn’t think of anything

better than tangling himself in Cara’s arms, sharing the same stolen

breaths, and tasting her sweet mouth while her heart pounded against

his chest.

Well, maybe he could imagine something a little better, but she’d

told him she wasn’t ready for that yet. Until then, he would be

patient . . . and mentally recite Earth’s periodic table when she pressed

into him with the soft curves that drove him half mad.

Like right now.

He made it all the way to “zinc” before asking her to stop tortur-

ing him.

“Sorry,” she whispered, beaming at him in a way that said she

wasn’t sorry at all. Her freckled cheeks were flushed scarlet and her

lips swollen from their kiss. She practically glowed with loving him,

and the sight caused the backs of his eyes to prickle.

Aelyx took a mental snapshot of the moment to comfort him that

night, when an earthbound transport would take him away from the

girl who cradled his whole future in her hands. He wouldn’t add to

her anxiety by saying so, but the threat of their impending separa-

tion had kept him awake most evenings. He knew they’d be together

16

again, but until that day came, he wouldn’t feel whole.

She bent to retrieve the makeshift mistletoe and handed it to him.

“Don’t want to lose this.”

“Definitely not.”

He tucked it back inside his pocket, and they made their way

through the heart of the ship to the dining hall. Once there, Aelyx led

her to the quiet corner he’d claimed for their festivities. She must have

recognized the symbolism behind the pair of black socks he’d affixed

to the cardboard mantle, because her face broke into a smile so wide

it crinkled the skin around her eyes.

“Stockings,” she said. “One for me, and one for you. Like a little

family.”

“I know it’s customary to fill them with candy,” he told her, “but

Santa couldn’t find any.” He pointed at the sock he’d stuffed for her.

“I—uh, I mean he—did leave a few toys, though.”

“I must’ve been a good girl this year,” she mused in a teasing tone

that implied the opposite. “Thanks, Santa.”

“You’re welcome.” Aelyx dropped a kiss atop her head. “But before

you take down your stocking, we have to play ‘hide the pickle.’ ”

Cara’s eyes flew wide and she slapped a palm over her mouth to

trap a laugh. “Really?” she asked, giggling. “In front of all these peo-

ple? It’s not supposed to be a spectator sport, you know.”

He sensed that she was joking, but he didn’t understand why. Per-

haps he’d referenced the wrong activity. To check, he pulled out his

data tablet and tapped the screen to retrieve the notes he’d made.

“Yes,” he said, and read the text aloud. “ ‘Someone hides a pickle-

shaped ornament in the Christmas tree, and the first person to find it

gets a special gift.’ ” He glanced at her, lowering his brows. “Why are

you laughing?”

“Because I’ve never heard of that,” she said. “Also, it sounds kind

of dirty.”

“But it’s a common tradition.” Google had told him so.

17

Cara leaned in and peered at his screen. After reading the notes,

she delivered a consoling pat on the arm and told him, “Looks like

it’s a common tradition . . . in Germany. The Sweeneys are Irish, but

I don’t know how they celebrate Christmas in Ireland. We keep it

pretty simple at our house.”

Mentally, Aelyx smacked his own forehead. He was a fashing idiot.

He couldn’t believe he’d been so careless as to omit “American”

from his query for holiday traditions. Of course humans would cel-

ebrate according to their varied cultures. Even on L’eihr, where the

entire population lived on a single continent, the residents in the

southern precinct observed Sh’ovah a bit differently from the way

those in the capital did. They prepared the holy mud to a thicker

consistency, and they used more of it during the covering. Not to

mention the variations in the feast afterward.

In his haste, he’d ruined everything.

He huffed a sigh. “This isn’t your Christmas at all. I’m sorry.”

“Good,” she said in a tone he recognized as sarcasm. “You should

be sorry. How dare you stay up all night to re-create a holiday you

don’t even celebrate, then fail to get every detail exactly right?”

“You don’t have to patronize me. I was stupid to—”

“Hey,” she interrupted, taking his face between her hands.

“Nobody calls my boyfriend stupid and lives to tell the tale.”

One corner of his lips twitched. “Not even your boyfriend?”

“Especially not him.”

“Then I’d better keep quiet,” Aelyx said, faking a shiver. “I’ve

seen you when you’re angry. I know you’re not bluffing.”

“That’s right, and I’m hungry, too.” Smoothing the hair away

from his face, she asked, “Didn’t you promise me some kind of sugar-

less bread shaped like an S?”

“A letterblanket,” he reminded her. “There’s also a rice pudding of

sorts in production, but the recipe is probably from Europe. I doubt

it’ll mean anything to you.”

18

Cara caressed his jaw with her fingertips, watching him in silence

until she released a soft breath. “See, that’s where you’re wrong,” she

said, and for a moment it looked like she might cry. But then she gave

him a smile that would make the sun shield its eyes. “This means

everything to me.”

Just like that, his dark mood lifted, making way for her infectious

joy. “Today’s the beginning, not the end,” he said, for his benefit as

well as hers. “We’re going to celebrate hundreds more holidays on the

colony—and make new ones, too. I suppose our customs might not

translate just right, but that’s okay. They’ll be ours.”

“Perfect by default,” she added.

“That’s right.” He hugged her close for a moment before noticing

that one of the socks had begun to slip from the wall. “You’d better

take down your stocking,” he said.

Cara didn’t need further convincing. She bounced excitedly on

her toes and in seconds, her arm was elbow-deep in the sock. She

pulled out a handful of wooden links and spirals—brainteaser puzzles

he’d pilfered from the transport’s archive room—and held each one

up to admire them. After setting the trinkets on the table, she reached

once more inside the stocking and produced something that surprised

them both. It was a leather headband adorned with iridescent metal

studs—meteorite fragments, judging by their reflective properties.

She drew an audible breath. “It’s beautiful.”

Aelyx agreed. It was beautiful, the leather hand-carved in swirl-

ing designs and intricate floral patterns. There was just one problem.

The band wasn’t from him. And since Santa Claus didn’t exist beyond

the fantasies of small children, that meant someone had deliberately

waited for him to leave the dining hall before stuffing the gift inside

Cara’s stocking.

Who would do that?

Her brother, perhaps. But where would Troy have earned enough

19

credits to buy something so lavish? It had to be someone else—some-

one with greater resources.

Aelyx didn’t have to ponder the question much longer. The answer

presented itself in the form of a familiar voice from behind.

“Good morning, Cah-ra,” said a young man. “Or should I say

Merry Christmas?”

Aelyx clenched his jaw and muttered, “Jaxen.” It sounded like an

accusation, and he immediately adjusted his tone. No matter how he

felt about the sh’ot-eating fasher, Jaxen was a member of The Way, and

wishing a slow, humiliating death upon him was equal to treason. For

this reason, Aelyx tried his best to avoid using Silent Speech with his

young leader. It was too hard to contain his loathing through mental

dialogue.

“Good morning,” Aelyx said aloud. He’d managed to temper his

voice, but the greeting still sounded tight. It was the best he could do.

Jaxen kept his gaze fixed on Cara. As usual. “When I overheard

the kitchen staff discussing Aelyx’s plans, I couldn’t resist playing

along.” He pointed at the leather band in Cara’s grasp. “I hope you

like it.”

She glanced back and forth between them, lips parted in obvious

confusion. “So this is from . . . you, Jaxen?”

The bastard beamed like a white flame, and Aelyx suddenly

remembered his first interaction with Eric, Cara’s previous boyfriend

on Earth. Soon after arriving for the student exchange, Aelyx had

presented Cara with a faceted gemstone necklace as a birthday gift,

and the gesture had infuriated Eric. Dude, the boy had exclaimed,

what’s your problem? You don’t buy jewelry for someone else’s girlfriend!

At the time, the hostile reaction had perplexed Aelyx, but now he

understood with crystal clarity why he’d upset the boy. It rankled to

see his l’ihan admiring a rival’s gift. He wanted to tear Jaxen’s leather

headband into a thousand pieces and burn the remains until not even

the ashes were visible. But then he recalled how Cara had reacted

20

when Eric forbade her to wear the necklace. It’d been the catalyst for

their breakup that very same night.

Aelyx had no intention of making the same mistake.

“Wasn’t that thoughtful?” Aelyx asked. He reached out and stroked

Cara’s cheek with his thumb, simply because he could do it and Jaxen

couldn’t. “It’s going to look stunning on you. Everything does.”

It took a moment for her to respond. “Oh,” she said, nodding at

Jaxen. “Yes, thank you. It’s gorgeous, really. I can’t wait to show it

off.”

But despite that, she tucked the headband in her tunic pocket.

Aelyx hid a grin.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Jaxen asked, seemingly unfazed by

the small defeat, or perhaps unaware of it. “I don’t mean to intrude

on your holiday, but I have matters to discuss, mostly with Aelyx.”

“Feel free,” Cara said, and indicated a spare seat on the opposite

side of the table. “We’re just about to eat breakfast. I’m sure there’s

plenty to go around.”

The stinking interloper accepted her offer, and Aelyx excused

himself to fetch their food from the kitchen—the food he’d paid

twenty credits for and would now have to share with the man shame-

lessly attempting to steal his l’ihan.

With any luck, Jaxen would choke on a bite of letterblanket.

That would make a merry Christmas, indeed.

Fifteen hours pre-departure

Cara

The letterblanket reminded Cara of an old sponge, and she

nearly choked twice on the rice pudding, but she made

throaty mmm noises and lifted another spoonful to her mouth

while holding Aelyx’s hand beneath the table. In her heart, this was

the best meal of all time.

Too bad her heart didn’t have taste buds.

Aelyx and Jaxen didn’t seem to mind the food, which didn’t sur-

prise her. L’eihrs couldn’t tolerate bold spices or too much flavoring.

In their world, bland was best, so this breakfast was probably right up

their alley.

Cara squeezed Aelyx’s fingers until he glanced up from his bowl,

then she flashed him a grateful smile. He returned the sentiment,

but his chrome eyes were shadowed by circles of exhaustion, and she

noted a lingering hint of something else in his gaze—a darker emo-

tion she couldn’t quite place. Guilt pricked at Cara’s stomach when

she realized how little he must’ve slept last night. What cosmic lottery

had she won to deserve a l’ihan who stayed up until dawn to bring

Christmas to outer space?

“This is great,” she said to him. “I can taste the love.”

That earned a small laugh, but just as he opened his mouth to

22

reply, Jaxen spoke from the other side of the table and Aelyx’s shoul-

ders clenched.

“We should arrive at the spaceport shortly before midnight,” Jaxen

announced, reminding them that the clock was ticking. As if they

could forget. “Are you ready?”

“There’s nothing more for me to pack,” Aelyx said to his bowl.

He never looked up from his food, and Cara wondered why he didn’t

use Silent Speech with Jaxen. That was how he communicated with

all the other L’eihrs on board.

“I suppose you’ve already consulted the medic,” Jaxen mused

while tearing free another chunk of S-shaped bread. “Since you’re

bunking with her.”

Aelyx nodded.

“Have you spoken with Syrine?” Jaxen asked. “I made arrange-

ments for the two of you to stay with the ambassador in Manhattan.

He’s eager to see you again.”

Now it was Cara’s turn to tense up. She’d done such an effective

job at blocking it out that she’d nearly forgotten Aelyx’s best friend—

his very pretty best friend—was returning to Earth with him tonight.

It was a punishment of sorts for their role in trying to sabotage the

alliance. The two were estranged at the moment, understandable as

Syrine had lost her marbles and attacked Cara with her bare hands,

but Aelyx wouldn’t hold that against his friend forever. At some point,

he would forgive Syrine.

And then what?

And then they’d be all snug and cozy in the ambassador’s pent-

house, that’s what.

“No,” Aelyx said. “I haven’t seen her since the hearing.”

Jaxen waved a dismissive hand. “You’ll have plenty of time to

catch up at today’s debriefing session. In fact”—he paused to glance

over his shoulder as if checking the time, though Cara didn’t see any

kind of clock on the wall—“we should get going.”

23

“But . . . but . . .” Since words failed her, Cara used her spoon

to point at the fake fireplace and the sad, gray Charlie Brown tree

hanging on the wall. She and Aelyx weren’t done celebrating Christ-

mas—they’d barely begun.

“Not to worry, Miss Sweeney,” Jaxen said. “I won’t keep your

l’ihan forever.”

“How long will it take?” she asked, then blushed when she remem-

bered his rank within the government. Despite Jaxen’s youth, she had

no place making demands of him. More gently, she added, “It’s our

last day together. Can we have a little more time before the meeting?

Just an hour or two?”

From the way Jaxen looked at her, you’d think she’d just deliv-

ered the punch line to the world’s dirtiest joke. He studied her with

amusement, his lips stretching wide over straight, white teeth in a

grin that oozed scandal, while his chrome gaze danced across her face.

Unlike most L’eihrs, his eyes were filled with expression. That prob-

ably should’ve reassured her, but for some reason, it didn’t.

Jaxen spoke to Aelyx, but never altered the direction of his gaze.

“My gods,” he said. “That face. How do you find the strength to tell

her no?”

Aelyx didn’t answer, but his grasp on hers tightened beneath the

table.

“Believe me,” Jaxen said, this time to Cara. “I’d love nothing

more than to indulge you. But unfortunately the command comes

straight from Alona. As you humans say, my hands are tied.”

Alona, the head Elder, was a woman with eyes so cold that a shiver

trickled down Cara’s spine at the mention of her name. If the Elders

had summoned Aelyx, he needed to go—now. He must’ve known it,

too, because he pressed his lips to Cara’s ear and whispered, “I’ll walk

you to your room.”

The last place she wanted to go was back to the shoebox-sized

prison cell she shared with her brother. She shook her head, faking

24

her best chipper voice. “And waste a perfectly good letterblanket?

You go ahead, and I’ll message Troy to meet me here. He never met

a breakfast he didn’t like.”

“All right,” Aelyx murmured. “I’ll find you as soon as I’m done.

Promise.”

“Take your time. This’ll give me a chance to find a present for

you.”

He placed a gentle kiss on her temple, and then he was gone.

His sudden absence left her disoriented in the bustling cafeteria.

She sat at her table for a while, blinking at the remnants of Christmas

morning—a scattering of food resting beside her discarded stocking

and the puzzles Aelyx had given her. She’d never enjoyed puzzles all

that much, but she loved these simply because he’d chosen them for

her. When she had thought the headband was from Aelyx, she’d loved

that, too.

But now she didn’t want it anymore.

Just the weight of the leather in her pocket made her stomach

squirm. She wondered how offended Jaxen would be if she acciden-

tally “lost” his gift. He didn’t know she could use Silent Speech, so

he’d never find out if she lied. Maybe she could tuck the headband

beneath her mattress when the transport reached L’eihr. By the time

anyone discovered it, they’d never know whose it was.

She’d just made her decision when a metallic clatter rang in her

ears and vibrated the tabletop beneath her palms. She flinched hard

and glanced up to find a new tray of food occupying the space across

from her. Her gaze wandered higher and settled on a pair of expres-

sionless silver eyes beneath a slash of chestnut brows. The teenage

L’eihr never opened his mouth, but his stare said, Piss off. This table’s

mine now.

Cara darted a quick glance over both shoulders. The dining hall

had filled quickly, rows of uniformed travelers sitting shoulder to

25

shoulder on the benches. But there were plenty of vacant seats in the

room, some of them directly behind her.

Clearly, this standoff wasn’t about the table. It was personal.

Which meant Cara wasn’t moving.

She made a show of settling in, resting both elbows on the steely

tabletop, and faking a bored yawn. Then she grinned for effect and

tore off a chunk of letterblanket. She held the boy’s gaze as she brought

the bite to her lips, then chewed with exaggerated slowness, pressing

a hand over her heart and groaning with fake culinary rapture. To

drive the point home, she arched a brow in the universal gesture for

Game on, motherfasher.

He accepted her challenge by plopping into the seat across from

her and shoving a full serving of flatbread into his mouth. His dead-

eyed glare gave her the heebie-jeebies, but Cara stared him down as

they engaged in edible warfare. Bite for bite, she held her own . . .

until her stomach began to feel like an overstretched water balloon. It

was then that she began to see how foolish it was to challenge a teen-

age boy to an eat-off.

Her appetite was no match for his. If she wanted to keep her table,

it was time to call in the reinforcements: Troy Sweeney, two-time

winner of the Midtown hot dog–eating contest.

Cara used her com-sphere to message her brother, but he never

accepted the connection. That could only mean he’d moved out of

range, probably to the showers. L’eihrs were required to carry their

com-devices at all times, but because Troy wasn’t a citizen, the rules

didn’t apply to him.

Just her luck.

Her nameless opponent showed no signs of relenting. In fact, he

now held a t’ahinni—ground meat wrapped in flatbread—in each

hand and double-fisted his breakfast with a gusto that nearly triggered

Cara’s gag reflex.

As horrible as the letterblanket tasted going down, it would taste

26

even worse coming back up, which was what would happen if she

took one more bite. She rubbed her distended belly and decided there

was no shame in walking away. Let him have the stupid table. What

did she care?

She stood from the bench and gathered her things, expecting the

boy to sneer in victory or at least crack a cocky smile. But that wasn’t

what happened. Instead, he quietly stood up and mirrored her actions,

going so far as to follow her to the waste receptacle and the tray col-

lection bin at the other end of the dining hall.

Sharing her table was one thing, but this crossed a line.

When she locked eyes with the boy, her insides turned cold. A

new emotion flickered behind his gaze, something achingly famil-

iar and very human. It was malice. She’d seen it enough times to

know. Like many others of his kind, he probably blamed her for the

exchange student’s death. Cara wanted to tell the boy to leave her

alone, that she hadn’t done anything wrong, but she didn’t bother.

Troy was right—she was a scapegoat, an easy outlet for the grief and

anger that some L’eihrs didn’t know how to process.

She turned on her heel and left the cafeteria with her head held

high, but she only made it twelve paces before realizing the stranger

had trailed her into the hallway. Her stomach dipped an inch, and

then another when the slow click of his boots followed her around

the next corner.

Cara refused to glance over her shoulder and give him the satis-

faction of knowing he’d unnerved her, but that didn’t stop her heart

from rising into her throat. With each new footstep, she wondered

if he was steadily closing the distance between them, waiting for the

right time to lunge at her from behind.

Without so much as a car key, she had no defenses. The puzzle

links in her pocket weren’t long enough to wrap around her knuckles,

and even if they were, she’d probably break her hand trying to land a

punch. As panic set in, her peripheral senses started to go fuzzy, and

27

she lost her bearings. A fork appeared in the hallway ahead, but she

didn’t know which way to turn to get back to her room. Return-

ing to the dining hall wasn’t an option, not with the boy at an arm’s

length behind her.

At the last moment, she decided to continue straight.

She reached inside her tunic pocket and curled a hand around her

com-sphere. Troy might not answer, but Aelyx would . . . unless his

leaders had instructed him to silence his sphere during their meeting.

It was a chance she’d have to take. Whatever the boy’s intentions, she

didn’t want to play his game anymore.

She brought the sphere to her lips and spoke the passkey to activate

it. But before she had a chance to summon Aelyx, the extra set of

footsteps fell silent and Cara glanced over her shoulder to find herself

alone. The stranger must’ve turned down another hall when he’d seen

her pull out her com-sphere.

Or maybe his room was that way and she’d overreacted.

Regardless, she blew out a sigh of relief.

Perhaps the danger was in her head. This wouldn’t be the first

time her path had crossed with another passenger’s. Once, she’d fol-

lowed another L’eihr from her floor all the way to the infirmary, not

because she had stalked him, but because she’d had a headache. It was

probably a little egocentric to assume that everyone was out to get

her.

Cara tried to convince herself that her imagination had spiraled

out of control, but deep down, it felt like a lie. If she was honest with

herself, she had to acknowledge that the boy from the cafeteria had

made it a point to intimidate her. And he’d succeeded.

She stopped to draw a few calming breaths, then regained her

bearings and made her way back to the room she shared with Troy.

After that, she didn’t leave again.

Ten hours pre-departure

Aelyx

He must’ve fallen asleep in his chair, because Aelyx awoke

to the sharp jab of an elbow in his ribs, courtesy of Syrine,

who sat beside him. He darted a quick glance around the

table, relieved to see that nobody else seemed to have noticed.

Syrine cast him a sideways look, arching her brow as if to say,

You’re welcome. In response, Aelyx folded both arms and ignored her.

If she thought he would thank her for this—or anything else—she

was mistaken.

He had nothing to say to her until she apologized.

Even then, he didn’t think their friendship would ever be the

same. Through Silent Speech last week, she’d probed his mind for his

deepest fear—losing Cara—and then sought to bring that nightmare

to fruition. Eron’s death was no excuse. Aelyx grieved for their friend,

too—and he did it without inflicting misery on others.

He wasn’t sure if he could ever trust Syrine again. Or if he wanted

to try.

“. . . to avoid a repeat of Eron’s slaughter.”

The name refocused Aelyx’s attention to the head of the table,

where Alona lectured them in the sleepy monotone unique to her

generation. The light had nearly died from her eyes, but a sudden

29

tightness at the corners of her mouth showed that her anger over

Eron’s death hadn’t faded. Nor should it.

Aelyx was still angry, too, though mostly at himself.

“The humans have promised impenetrable protection this time,”

she continued, extending a wrinkled hand toward Aelyx and Syrine.

“They’ve allotted an entire unit of soldiers to your personal security

detail. The man called Colonel Rutter will take custody of you upon

arrival on Earth, and afterward, you’ll never be alone.”

She probably meant that as a message of comfort, but Aelyx had to

suppress a groan. Toward the end of his stay with the Sweeneys, he’d

experienced day-to-day life under the constant guard of the American

military. He’d found the attention stifling, and truth be told, safety

was an illusion. The soldiers’ presence hadn’t stopped a mob from

storming Cara’s home—or beating her father half to death because

he’d disguised himself as a L’eihr.

If a human had the will to commit violence, he’d find a way.

“In order to salvage this alliance,” Alona said, “both sides must

be willing to forgive past transgressions.” Her voice took a hardened

edge when she added, “But don’t mistake forgiveness for frailty. The

humans need this alliance for their very survival. We do not. During

your interactions with them, be cordial, but never grovel. Remember

your place.” She tipped her head. “Do you understand?”

Aelyx gave an enthusiastic nod in hopes that she’d dismiss him,

but then the topic turned to public relations, specifically the means

with which The Way proposed to undo the damage he, Syrine, and

Eron had caused in blighting several fields of crops on Earth. Pinch-

ing both temples between his fingers, Aelyx slumped back into his

chair and pretended to listen when his thoughts were with a girl on

the other side of the ship.

He wished The Way would delay the debriefing until tomorrow

and call in with their spheres for a virtual meeting. Once he was away

from Cara, they could consume an entire week for all he cared. But

30

right now, with only a handful of hours to spend with her, each min-

ute wasted inside this tomb felt like a year shaved off his life. Worse

yet, he knew Cara felt the same way. It killed him not being able to

give her what she needed.

He rubbed his bleary eyes and hoped the kitchen staff had remem-

bered to slow-roast the h’alaf the way he’d requested for his imitation

Christmas dinner. The tiny fowl were the closest things to turkey he

could find. He supposed they would taste good stuffed with breading,

assuming he could stay awake long enough to eat them.

Oh, to be in his bunk right now . . .

“Aelyx!”

He jerked awake again, this time to a voice sharper than an ice

pick. Alona narrowed her eyes at him from across the room. He’d

never seen her composure crack like this—it’s how he knew he was in

trouble. Face heating with embarrassment, he sat up in his chair and

tried to disregard the stares of everyone in his periphery.

He locked eyes with Alona and told her privately, Please accept my

apology. It won’t happen again. To make sure of it, I’ll stand for the rest of

the meeting.

Why are you not rested, brother? she asked. Are you unwell?

Instead of forming a response, he projected snippets of memory

from last night, when he’d foregone sleep in favor of recreating his

misinterpretation of Cara’s holiday. Had I known about today’s debriefing,

he told Alona, I would have made sure I was prepared.

She closed the connection between their minds and watched him

for a moment. When she engaged in Silent Speech with him again,

he sensed a trace of levity in her mood.

You are dismissed to your chamber, she said. One corner of her lips

hinted at a grin. Or that of your l’ihan. But when we reach the spaceport

and you’re summoned for departure, I expect you to report to the docking sta-

tion at once—not a second later.

You have my word, he promised.

31

Bring Miss Sweeney, if you choose, Alona said. I assume she’d like to see

you off. She can return to this transport with your shuttle pilot.

Aelyx thanked her, knowing this wasn’t an offer The Way typi-

cally extended. On his planet, only approved travelers and vendors

were permitted at space stations. Friends remained at home with no

fanfare, and L’eihrs generally didn’t understand the human custom of

accompanying loved ones to their vessels before a voyage.

But he understood it now.

He excused himself from the meeting with a two-fingered salute

to the nine other members of The Way. Briefly, he met Jaxen’s gaze,

and Aelyx concealed a satisfied smile knowing the young man would

be trapped in this eternal meeting, powerless to meddle.

Then Aelyx left the conference and headed for the nearest wash-

room to splash cool water on his face. He wouldn’t be of any use to

Cara asleep.

Seven hours pre-departure

Cara

Cara frowned at the picture she’d drawn of two young lov-

ers holding hands in the snow, their noses touching in an

Eskimo kiss. She’d spent an hour on this scene, and the

reindeer in the background looked like a diseased jackal. She had

never considered herself artistic—as evidenced by her crooked stick

figures—but deprived of glitter, glue, markers, and proper scissors,

she didn’t have a popsicle’s chance in hell of creating anything that

vaguely resembled a Christmas card.

She couldn’t give this garbage to Aelyx.

Cara swore under her breath. Aside from a few protein packets and

some L’eihr uniforms, nothing on this ship belonged to her. Not that

Aelyx would find any of her possessions useful since he was neither

human nor a teenage girl. She didn’t have a single credit to her name,

and even if she did, she wouldn’t know how to spend it.

“What can I give Aelyx that he doesn’t already have?” she asked

herself.

A snort came from the top bunk. Troy suggested, “A life.”

“Shut it.” She smacked the mattress above her. “I wasn’t talking

to you.”

His head appeared upside down, and he peered at her drawing. “Is

that a donkey? It’s the nativity scene, right?”

33

“Not important,” she said, flipping the paper over. “Because I’m

not giving it to him.”

“Probably a good idea . . . unless you don’t like him very much.”

Troy grinned. “In which case, add my name at the bottom.”

Cara glared at her brother. “Please tell me you have a girlfriend on

L’eihr. Because I can’t wait to give you a taste of your own medicine.”

Troy elected not to answer, but the way he lowered both brows

before whipping his head out of view told her she’d plucked a nerve.

“You do have a girlfriend!” Cara said, fiendishly rubbing her

palms together. He sure worked fast. He’d only lived on L’eihr for a

few months. “Who is she?”

“She’s nobody.”

“Nice try.” Let him play it coy. She’d figure out the mystery L’eihr’s

identity sooner or later. “It’s probably not anyone on the transport, or

you’d be trying to sneak out at night instead of me.”

“Drop it, okay?” Troy said, his tone darkening. “She’s not my

girlfriend. She never even looks at me. Any shot I might’ve had died

along with that L’eihr kid on Earth. She probably hates me now, just

like everyone else does.”

Cara felt a prickle of sympathy for her brother’s unrequited alien

love. Sometimes she forgot that he had a heart. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll

drop it if you’ll help me think of a Christmas present for Aelyx.”

He grumbled something that she interpreted as consent.

“You’re a guy,” she said, stating the obvious. “What do you think

he wants?”

“I know exactly what he wants,” Troy told her. “And he’s not

going to get it.”

“Can you stop being a jackass and help me?”

Troy huffed a loud sigh. Even though the mattress blocked her

view, she could practically see him flinging both arms in the air. “I

dunno. All he probably wants is to be around you. Just spend some

time with him and don’t overthink it.”

34

“But it’s our last night together,” she said. “And we’re celebrating

Christmas. I want to do something special.”

“We don’t do anything special at home,” Troy told her. “After the

presents, we just sit around all day playing movie-chug.”

He had a point.

Back home, one of their family traditions was turning movies

into drinking games, minus the alcohol. Mom would make the most

amazing root beer floats—with homemade ice cream and a dash of

vanilla syrup—but nobody was allowed to take a sip until a designated

moment during the film, usually a tag word. A few years ago, Troy

had chosen Scarface and told everyone to drink each time a character

dropped the f-bomb. The root beer floats didn’t last long that night.

Cara’s lips parted as an idea came to mind. “Did you load any

movies on your laptop before you left Earth?”

“Yeah,” he said. “No Christmassy ones, though. Mostly action

flicks.”

“That’ll work.”

There was only one downside to movie-chug—the frequent bath-

room breaks. Maybe in the spirit of Christmas and mistletoe, she and

Aelyx would kiss with each tag word instead. He’d love that. With

a few tweaks, she could easily transform the bottom bunk into an

impromptu movie theater.

Her spirits lifted—this activity had tradition potential written all

over it.

Cara raided the closet for some extra blankets and rolled them into

makeshift pillows, since those didn’t come standard on L’eihr beds.

And because her brother was unlikely to budge, she tucked a few

sheets beneath the upper mattress to create a privacy curtain around

the lower bunk. The ambience reminded her more of a kid’s blanket

fort than a romantic haven, but beggars couldn’t be choosy.

She’d just finished scrolling through the media files on her broth-

er’s laptop when a knock sounded on the bedroom door. Cara’s heart

35

leapt with excitement as she palmed the security pad—but it sank just

as quickly.

One glance at Aelyx and she could see that he was dead on his

feet.

The whites of his eyes were webbed with scarlet, and the hollows

beneath were so dark it looked like he’d gone ten rounds with Mike

Tyson. There was no way he’d make it through a movie, or even the

opening credits.

So much for her big plans.

He flashed a tired grin and lifted a covered platter for show. “I

picked up our dinner,” he said in a sleep-roughened voice, then

cleared his throat. “A pair of h’alaf stuffed with herbed bread crumbs.

It’s the closest bird to turkey we have on board, similar to your quail.”

He lifted the cover, and a waft of savory steam escaped. Two golden-

brown roasted birds rested atop a beige pile of mash. “And imitation

mashed potatoes,” he added, “made from a mixture of L’eihr root

vegetables.”

“No gravy?” she teased.

In his exhausted state, poor Aelyx didn’t get the joke. “I didn’t

think of that.”

“I’m kidding,” she said, taking the dish from him. “This smells

amazing. Thank you.”

When she led him inside and settled on the floor with their sup-

per, Troy perked up from the top bunk. Propping on one elbow, he

leaned over and sniffed the air like the vulture he was. “What’cha got

there?”

She told him, “Nothing for you,” at the same time Aelyx said,

“Help yourself.” That was all the encouragement Troy needed to hop

down from his bed and join them in sitting cross-legged on the floor.

The conversation ceased for a while as they shared the meal

between them. The birds didn’t taste anything like turkey—or quail,

for that matter—but Cara enjoyed their bold, gamey flavor, especially

36

when paired with the seasoned stuffing. However, the same couldn’t

be said for the “mashed potatoes.” The vegetables had a slightly stringy

texture, kind of like broccoli stalks, which didn’t translate well into

a mashed dish. One bite was more than enough for her. Troy didn’t

even touch the veggies, and that was saying a lot.

Aelyx ate more slowly than she’d ever seen, mostly because he had

to stop every few bites to cover a yawn. He looked so pitiful that Cara

had to resist the urge to hug him to her chest and rock him to sleep.

When he caught her watching him, his droopy gaze warmed, and his

lips slid into an easy grin of pure contentment, like she was his home

base. She recognized the sentiment because she felt the same way.

In that moment, Cara knew what her gift would be.

“Come on,” she said, and took his hand to pull him up from the

floor. Then she towed him to the bed and pulled aside one curtain.

Aelyx squinted at the computer resting on her mattress, reading

the screen. “Are we watching a movie?”

“Maybe later.” She closed the laptop and set it on the top bunk.

“For now, let’s just take it easy.”

Ever vigilant, Troy jabbed a finger toward his bunk. “I’ll be right

there. Just so you know.”

“Ignore him,” Cara said, gently pushing Aelyx to lie down.

She didn’t have to ask him twice. Aelyx stretched out on his back

and rested on the makeshift pillow, sighing with audible relief. He

folded one muscled arm behind his head and extended the other in

an invitation for Cara to join him. He didn’t need to ask her twice,

either. She ducked inside the curtain and lay down on her side, then

snuggled against him as close as the laws of physics would allow. Soon

her cheek was nestled in the curve of Aelyx’s shoulder with his arm

wrapped tightly around her.

“This is nice,” he whispered.

“Mmm,” she agreed. Nice didn’t begin to describe it.

Cloaked in the darkness of their small sanctuary, she breathed in

37

his scent and clung to him for a while. The closeness felt so unbeliev-

ably good that it made her eyes prickle to imagine how long she’d

have to wait before lying in his arms again.

Choosing to live in the moment, she pushed aside all thoughts of

ticking clocks and smoothed her hand up the length of Aelyx’s chest,

making sure to enjoy each hard contour along the way. Scrumptious

as he was, she couldn’t resist making a few extra passes before reach-

ing her destination. Once there, she trailed her fingertips up the side

of his neck and behind his ear. He loved it when she played with his

hair, so she skated her fingernails across his scalp in a light dance that

brought goose bumps to the surface of his skin.

He made a throaty noise of pleasure that may have given her

brother a heart attack. “If you keep doing that,” Aelyx whispered,

“I’m going to fall asleep.”

“That’s kind of the point,” she whispered back.

“But it’s our las—”

“Shhh,” she told him, and kissed his chest. “No more talking.”

What Cara had finally realized was that tonight wasn’t the time

to make memories. They would have plenty of opportunities for that

in the years to come. By trying to cram a week’s worth of together-

ness into one day, she’d shown a lack of faith, doubting that they’d

be reunited on the colony. These final hours until Aelyx’s departure

were no more or less important than the millions of other hours they

would share over a lifetime.

Faith.

That was her Christmas gift to him—to both of them, really.

She brushed her fingers through his hair and listened to his breath-

ing deepen. The grip of his arm around her began to slip, his muscles

occasionally twitching as they finally shut down for some overdue

rest. She continued lulling him to sleep until his pulse slowed and his

ribs rose and fell like the tide.

And then he was out.

38

She couldn’t help feeling a twinge of disappointment watching

him slip into dreams, because in a way, he’d left her. This was what

she wanted, but she already missed the low timbre of his voice and the

strength of his touch—the pieces of him that’d made her fall in love

with this spectacular boy from another world.

The temptation was strong to hold on and spend all night listening

to his heartbeat. But that wouldn’t demonstrate faith. To show real

belief meant falling asleep with him, to pass those hours unaware of

his warmth and his scent. To slide into unconsciousness and simply let

the time expire. It wouldn’t be easy, but she could do that.

She indulged for another few minutes before closing her eyes.

“Good night, l’ihan,” she whispered, and then followed him down.

Note from Melissa

Thank you for reading Until Midnight. In case you were unaware, this

story is part of the “Alienated” series, taking place after book one

ends and before the sequel begins. If you would like to see more of

Aelyx and Cara, I invite you to:

1. Check out Alienated, the novel that started it all. You can read the

first three chapters beginning on the next page.

2. Enjoy a sneak peek of Invaded. Following the Alienated sample,

you’ll find an exclusive four-chapter excerpt of the sequel. If you

enjoy it, I hope you will pre-order Invaded, which releases February

3, 2015.

3. Join my mailing list. I send quarterly e-newsletters to update my

fans on contests, giveaways, and new releases. You can sign up at

http://melissa-landers.com/alienated.