Llew’s mind buzzed with new knowledge as she wandered back to her room to take her bath, but she felt there were still so very many holes to be filled. Something had occurred thousands of years ago to split the immensely powerful race, the Immortals, into the Kara and the Aenuks. The book Anya had brought with her from Aghacia spoke of magic used to bind their children as one or the other, until there were no Immortals left. But another book from Gaemil’s library stated that it had been a faster process, that the Immortals themselves had somehow divided – it hadn’t gone into a convincing tale of how, and Llew’s tired mind was too easily confused by it all. Neither book had adequately explained the historical hatred between the two races, either, but both had certainly mentioned it, and Anya had insisted that the fact Jonas cared for Llew at all, despite such an ancient, ingrained hatred, was proof enough that he loved Llew more than he could love anyone else. Well, Llew supposed they would find out once Jonas had had the chance to get to know the Syakaran woman.

The Syakaran woman who happened to be right around the corner of the hallway.

‘Oh!’

‘Oh, indeed.’ Karlani folded her arms. ‘Llew, isn’t it?’ She looked Llew up and down. ‘No accounting for taste, I guess. But he doesn’t have to settle now I’m here, does he?’

Llew felt her cheeks grow warm. The woman had quite suddenly lost all her shine and, just as suddenly, Llew felt an immense drive to fight for Jonas’s right not to be paired with her. She drew herself up taller.

Karlani smiled. ‘Do you honestly think you have what it takes to keep him satisfied? He’s Syakaran. He needs a Syakaran woman.’

Llew fought down the urge to agree.

‘He needs a woman as . . . vigorous as he is.’

Llew said nothing.

‘He needs someone he can run with.’ The woman ran a speedy circle around Llew, demonstrating the superior speed of her race. ‘Someone he can . . . play with—’ she sped around Llew again ‘—without the fear that he might break her. I heard you’re not even Kara.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Then whatever made you think you could have him?’

Llew resisted the urge to say, ‘Because I already have.’

‘That’s right, little girl. Leave the big boy to a real woman.’ The woman did another super-speed circuit around Llew. ‘And we’ll—’ Whisk. ‘—get on—’ Whisk. ‘—just—’ Whisk. ‘Ugh!’ Karlani hit the floor.

Llew lowered her fist, stepped over the woman and carried on to her room to take that bath.

Llew lay in the water, her mind churning.

Anya had been right – the conflict between Aenuks and Kara ran deep. And with what Jonas had told her about what happened to his parents, it was a wonder he hadn’t stuck his knife in her the moment he learned what she was. She’d told Anya what Braph had seen, that he’d watched while Jonas considered ending her life. Anya had said it further proved the affection Jonas had for Llew. That he had been tempted was a sign of his loathing for her kind. That he hadn’t gone through with it showed that he recognized her as someone special, someone he couldn’t lump in with all those other Aenuks he hated.

Part of Llew wondered if Anya just saw things how she wanted to see them. She wanted Llew to be as happy as she was with Gaemil.

She might have told Anya what Braph had seen, but she hadn’t told her what he had done. What she had let him do. How could her body betray her like that? And now she’d gone and asserted her right to Jonas over that Syakaran woman, and she didn’t even know if she could bring herself to . . . to . . . even think of . . .

She couldn’t even name . . . it. Oh, gods, she felt as prudish as Anya.

Her mind was so busy struggling through these thoughts that she didn’t hear the knock at the door.

‘Llew?’ It was Jonas.

‘It’s unlocked.’

The door clicked, sending a shudder through Llew, and he stepped inside.

‘You alright?’

Llew took a deep, calming breath. Jonas was not Braph. ‘I’m fine.’ She turned her head to try to see him, but he still stood at the door.

‘The water ain’t steamin’.’

‘Oh. Yes. It’s not hot anymore.’

Jonas came to her and crouched by the bath, placing a hand on her shoulder.

‘You’re freezin’.’ He stood up, grabbed her towel and came back to her. ‘Come on.’ He held the towel for her to step into.

Llew got up, water streaming off her with most of it landing in the tub and some hitting the floor and making little puddles. Jonas wrapped the towel around her shoulders and pulled her to him, supporting her as she stepped from the tub.

‘Why were you still in there? The water’s cold.’ He rubbed the towel over her vigorously, generating heat.

‘I guess I was waiting for you.’

He stood back to look her in the eye and she suddenly felt shy.

‘Last time I had a bath in this room, you interrupted me, and, well, I thought that . . .’

He lifted an eyebrow. ‘I might interrupt you again?’

‘I’m scared.’

He pulled her into an embrace. He hadn’t yet resumed wearing his knife vest and his heat poured through his shirt.

‘You remember when Braph attacked, how he used his magic to make me seize up?’

Llew nodded.

‘Well, it weren’t just my body I lost control of. My mind . . . I saw my life flash past. Everythin’ from my childhood to the day my parents died, Aris claimin’ me, meetin’ Kierra, findin’ out she was with child, losin’ them, meetin’ you . . . And I realized somethin’.’ He swallowed and his arms pulled her tighter. She almost couldn’t breathe, but she said nothing. ‘I realized that nearly every memory came with a lot of pain and loss. My folks. My family. Even my brother. I mean, he’s alive, but I lost him years ago. But every time you appeared, there was no pain. There was only you and, I can’t explain, but while everythin’ else was chaos, if I thought o’ you, if I fought to keep you in the front of my mind, it didn’t matter what he was doin’ to my body. All that mattered was you.’

It took several moments for Llew to realize he’d stopped talking. ‘Oh, damn it, I’m making you wet.’ She brushed the damp patch of his shirt, as if she could somehow dry it with damp fingertips.

‘Did you hear me?’ Jonas pushed back and dipped his head to get a look at her eyes.

‘I heard,’ she said, absently brushing imaginary fluff from his shoulder. She’d always fought for what she had. What she wanted didn’t come and deliver itself to her. The top button of his shirt was loose. Llew could just see a hint of the big black tattoo beneath; the tattoo Braph didn’t have; the tattoo that was a symbol of all Jonas was, his family, his race, his country: a symbol of him. She raised a hand and traced that little bit of ink that she could see.

He pulled his arms from her and loosened the next button, letting her explore further. Her towel, no longer held firm about her, fell to the floor.

‘Oh, what did you do to Karlani?’ he asked, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. ‘She was cryin’ to Aris about her nose bein’ broken. It’s not; drama queen. She didn’t have anythin’ nice to say about you. But she didn’t go so far as to admit you did it.’

‘She . . . ran into my fist.’ Llew pushed his shirt from his shoulders. Something about that tattoo calmed her. It gave her a grounding. It called her home. She wrapped her arms about his waist, pressed her ear to his chest, listening to his heart. Braph may have had one, but she’d never heard it. She closed her eyes. ‘Do you think Aris would be upset if I had one of your babies?’

Jonas tensed. Then he laughed. ‘He’d be livid. He’s scared enough that if I fall for you, I won’t do his bidding with the Karan girls he lines up – which is true. If it can even happen, I mean, it’s probably like how you can’t heal me . . .’ He pushed back from her again, gripping her shoulders, then stared at her, face blank, for a good few moments.

‘Really? How—’ He paused. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I think so.’ She wasn’t sure. She had never been pregnant before, hadn’t made a habit of hanging around pregnant girls and what she knew of the indications had been overheard only by accident. ‘I mean, I don’t know. But how else could I have healed you? You’re Syakaran. There has to be something that broke that barrier. And I’ve been running fast, and feeling strong. And I’ve been sick. And the Ajnai tree was very interested in . . . everything.’

The smile slowly returned to Jonas’s face. Then it disappeared again.

‘Is that okay?’ He looked worried. ‘Are you . . . happy?’

The strange thing was that if she let herself imagine it – having a baby, a child and all the mess and stress that went with it – she felt nervous and a little sick. But when she imagined the growing baby inside her, Jonas’s baby, a sense of love and wonder spread from her belly and through the rest of her and she couldn’t think of doing anything more wonderful or more important. She nodded and, when he seemed unconvinced, she nodded more, and smiled. He drew her into a firm embrace and kissed her head.

They stood like that a long while. She thought of those who were lost: from Renny whose life she had drained to save herself, and Kynas who had falsely accused her of another murder. The girl she had unknowingly killed, and the two street kids at Braph’s; and Pa, whom she had failed in her attempt to rescue him. And Jonas, whom she hadn’t failed. So many deaths, one life, and one more to come. And out there was her mother – still alive? With that thought came another, unbidden: a face, a presence.

For she knew in her gut that Braph still lived and would now more than ever want revenge; more than ever would want her blood.

End.