“What are you doing, princess?”
Sifting. Tethering,she thought.Feeling closer to you than I’ve ever felt to another being.
Their connection was unlike anything she’d felt in her life. It wasn’t just easy to feel him. It was like he was an extension of herself, like her magic naturally ebbed and flowed in and around him. Itreachedfor him.
A perfect match.
Overwhelmed by that knowledge and the horror of the night, she croaked, “It’s a habit. I can stop if you want me to.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Relief made her shoulders sag. Kaz was safe and steady and warm. Atria needed that, so if he didn’t want her to let go just yet, then she had no reason to do so.
It took a moment, but once she was no longer distracted by Kaz’s flare of anxiety, his confession finally managed to break through her stupor.
Atria’s eyes popped open.Oh, gods.
She stared up Kaz’s profile. His angular jaw was locked, his eyes were stone cold and focused. His hair, raven black, was a mess of waves over his shoulders. He looked exactly as he always had, except she finally noticed the resemblance.
He looks like Thaddeus.
She swallowed thickly. In the whirlwind that had been the last forty-eight hours, she hadn’t stopped to consider exactly what parent Theodore and Kaz shared. She’d been so distressed in the motel that she didn’t listen to whatever it was the sovereign said afteryes, he’s my brother.It didn’t seem important. Now, however…
Mad Thad killed his wife and lost his head.
No wonder she had no idea the Solbournes had a half-brother. They rarely spoke about Thaddeus II in public. He was a tyrannical monster who’d nearly run the Protectorate headlong into a bloody civil war, and he met a grisly end at the hands of his eldest daughter, Delilah Solbourne,the Executioner.
It was a horrific family saga, and the public only knew the bare minimum of the facts.
Atria’s chest constricted as she traced the lines of his harsh profile.What happened to you?
Because she was immersed in him, as attuned to another being as she could be without physical contact, Atria found herself whispering, “I don’t care who your father was, Kaz.”
His eyes, such a deep blue they were almost black, flicked down to meet hers. His expression didn’t change, but she couldfeelthe ripple of emotion through him when he replied, “Thanks, princess.”
* * *
They drove all night.
First, they made a looping route around Denver, ostensibly to lose any tail they might have had, before they circled back around to where Kaz had cached their bags, just in case anything happened. It was a wise move, and for once, Atria was glad that her orc appeared ready for anything.
That done, they drove north to Brighton, where they ditched Norman’s SUV in favor of another hackable vehicle of a similar size.
They stopped only once at a caravan rest area to use the facilities. There, she bought them snacks from a bank of vending machines while Kaz pinched — and then returned — a cellphone from an orcish truck driver taking a smoke break. He’d promised to make the call to Enforcement, and that dark, sticky feeling of guilt eased a little when it was done.
Quickly piling back into their vehicle, they were off again in less than fifteen minutes.
Her dinner was soup in a self-heating can, a bag of chips, and a much-needed chocolate bar. Kaz’s was an obscene amount of smoked and spiced jerky, an energy drink, and some pre-sliced summer sausage. Eating helped with her shock, and as the hours ticked by, she began to feel a little bit more human. If she ate her soup, if she focused on Kaz, if she refused to think about Norman, then she almost feltokay.
Talking to him helped calm her nerves. She tried her best to distract herself by talking to him about things that didn’t matter, like where he lived in the city, how many leather jackets he owned, and why he only ate meat.
He told her that he had a penthouse in Solbourne Tower, but mostly he lived in an apartment in the financial district. He owned two leather jackets of identical make, in case one became damaged beyond repair, and he explained that elves were obligate carnivores. Though his orcish side allowed him to handlesomecarbohydrates and non-meat protein, he generally preferred to avoid them.
Atria was soothed by his rich baritone. Listening to him speak, feeling the steady lapping waves of his aura, was a balm. When he spoke, she didn’t have to think about anything else, though it became harder and harder to not be lulled into sleep by that low, rumbly voice.
She wasn’t sure if he knew that it soothed her, or that she couldn’t handle thinking about herself at that moment, but Kaz blessedly refrained from asking about her in return. He told her all the mundane things about his life, about his cars, and even how he’d gone to school to get a degree in political science.
Gradually, she began to nod off. Atria tried to catch herself, but after the third slip, Kaz gave her an exasperated look and ordered, “Princess,sleep.”
