“How are you going to hide? You’re seven feet tall with golden scales and eyes that glow in the dark. You’re not exactly subtle.”
“Then I kill them.”
She spun back around, her heart seizing in her chest. “No! No, absolutely not. You can’t just?—”
“If they threaten you, I kill them.”
“Rhyx, you cannot kill people!”
He blinked at her, genuine confusion clouding his features. “Why not?”
“Because it’s wrong! Because—” She pressed her hands against her face, trying to collect her thoughts. This was the problem with communicating across such a vast cultural divide. He didn’t have the same moral framework she did. He was operating on some ancient imperative she couldn’t fully comprehend, and while part of her found it terrifyingly attractive, the rest of her was screaming that this was a disaster waiting to happen.
“Killing is bad,” she said finally, lowering her hands. “Humans have rules. Laws. We don’t kill each other unless… unless there’s no other choice. And even then, it’s considered a terrible thing. A last resort.”
“My people had rules too.” Something dark passed through his eyes, the same grief she’d glimpsed when he talked about his memories of ancient Mars. “Rules did not save them.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about what happened to your people. But I can’t let you hurt anyone. There has to be another way.”
“What way?”
She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again.
I don’t know.The admission was like swallowing glass. She was supposed to be the smart one, the scientist who could analyze any situation and find a solution. But this was beyond her.
“I don’t know,” she finally whispered. “I need to think. I need time to figure this out.”
“The storm gives you time.”
“The storm won’t last forever.”
“No.” He rose to his feet, towering over her. The cavern suddenly felt smaller, the walls closer. “Nothing lasts forever. I know this better than you.”
There was no accusation in his voice, just a weary acceptance that made her chest ache. He had watched his world die. He had somehow survived its destruction, carrying memories of a civilization that no longer existed. What were her problems compared to that?
Everything,something whispered in the back of her mind.Your problems are everything to you, just like his are everything to him. That’s how it works.
She stood as well, bringing them face to face. Or as close to face to face as they could get when he was nearly a foot taller than her. “I know I sound like I’m overreacting. But you have to trust me on this. If anyone finds out about you, if they discover what you are?—”
“What am I?”
The question stopped her cold. She’d been so focused on the practicalities, on the logistics of keeping him hidden, that she’d never really answered it. Not for him, not even for herself.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Something ancient. Something that shouldn’t exist. Something…” She hesitated, then reached up and placed her hand against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. “Something miraculous.”
His hand came up to cover hers, pressing it more firmly against his scales. His warmth bled through her skin, into her blood, and down to her bones. “You fear for me.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
“Because you care for me.”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you pull away?”
She didn’t have an answer for that. Or rather, she had too many answers—because this is insane, because I barely know you, because you’re an alien and I’m a human and there’s no future for us, because if I let myself admit what I’m feeling it will destroy me when I have to leave—and none of them seemed sufficient.
