The Sleeper and the Silverblood

The following silence felt heavier than the words spoken. Storm’s eyes lingered on the deactivated screen, while Kitara processed the details of their assignment. Tension vibrated in Storm’s posture, communicating his continued displeasure with the situation.

Kitara rose from her chair and felt Storm track her movements as she wandered across the room. Without Saoirse as a distraction, his aura threatened to swamp her with its potency, filling the space until she was nearly dizzy with the sensation of it.

The door to the office opened, and she turned. Kenric entered with two others close behind him: a silver-haired Fallen and a younger curly-haired angel whose expression brightened at the sight of her.

Kitara’s breath caught in her throat.

She dimly heard Storm greet the Fallen as her gaze landed on Devika.

With training, most immortals could use the mindspeaking ability to silently communicate. Kitara and Devika were no exception, though Kitara usually avoided the method if at all possible.

In this case, it wasn’t possible.

«Don’t let on that you know me,» she sent the rapid-fire thought to her friend. «We’re strangers here.»

Devika stiffened and quickly looked away, her slate-gray feathers rustling behind her.

Satisfied her adopted sister wouldn’t expose their relationship, Kitara’s attention shifted to the Fallen accompanying them. His arms sported full tattoo sleeves, while numerous metal piercings in his ears caught the light.

“Hello, Councilor,” she said pleasantly.

Robert Zhevalar, the High Engineer, nodded in acknowledgment.

Kenric shifted uneasily, edging away from the Fallen. “Major, Kitara,” he said, “this is Devika Lyven. She’ll be your assigned Historian and point of contact for any research you might need to conduct during the course of your mission. Devika, this is Kitara, and Major Avensäel. As we’ve discussed, you’ll work with them when necessary while they manage an assignment outside the boundaries of the facility.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Devika said, extending a hand for them both to shake. When she took Kitara’s, the Sleeper offered her a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“And Councilor Zhevalar is here to ensure all records of your meeting and presence are erased after this point,” Kenric continued without looking at the Fallen.

“I tend to frequent headquarters more regularly than the other Councilors,” Robert took over explaining. “And given the circumstances, I opted to handle the details personally rather than involve my head Engineer.”

“I appreciate your help, Councilor,” Kitara offered, a slight tilt of her head in respect.

Robert acknowledged her with a single nod, but his dark eyes darted in Kenric’s direction.

The Commander turned his wrist over, checking the face of the device there. “Major, the shift change should be happening any time now. You’ll need to go get the SUV.”

“Officially,” Robert cut in, “your cover story for your travel is a speaking engagement at the outpost in Ploiești, about an hour and a half north of here. Your itinerary should give you enough time to get Kitara to her new flat and then on to Ploiești before the seminar begins.”

Storm frowned. “The speaking engagement is real?”

“Of course,” Robert said, eyeing him impassively. “The story doesn’t hold up otherwise.”

Kenric cleared his throat. “You know where the car is; go bring it around and I’ll escort Kitara out after the Councilor finishes expunging the logs.”

Storm inclined his head. “Councilor, Commander, Devika,” he said in farewell before stepping out of the room.

In his wake, an awkward stillness hovered. Robert turned to the computer on Kenric’s desk and launched a console. With a few keystrokes, the monitor switched to a display of code dancing across the screen in an alien language only the High Engineer could decipher.

The room echoed with the sound of Robert’s fingers flying across the keyboard. His silver hair and the piercings in his ears caught the light as he hunched over the desk. Devika and Kitara exchanged an uncomfortable look, then both darted side glances at the Commander who shifted his weight uneasily, like he’d rather be any other place in the cosmos at the moment.

After a few moments of loaded silence, with a final swipe, Robert terminated the console and the monitor dimmed again. He turned. “All the electronic records and any associated security feeds or logs associated with your arrival, presence, and departure are wiped,” he said. “You’re officially a ghost, Kitara.”

“Thank you, Robert,” Kenric interjected first, his gratitude genuine, though he did not meet the High Engineer’s gaze.

Robert shrugged, pushing back from the desk. “My duty, Commander,” he said simply, then swept from the room.

Kitara wasted no time pulling her friend into a hug. “Dev.”

“Oh my god, Kitara!” The younger immortal returned the embrace.

Kitara laughed, giving her shorter friend a quick spin, then turned to Kenric. “You jerk,” she rasped, her throat constricting with emotion.

He smiled. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Kitara kept her arm around Devika’s shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispered.

The Commander nodded, his eyes soft at their reunion. “You’ll only have a moment, but I’ll give you two some privacy,” he said, then closed the door behind him.

The tall chunky soles of Devika’s black combat boots helped offset the height discrepancy as she stood back to observe her friend. “I can’t believe you’re here! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t, Dev, you know that. Not when it’s an official assignment. But the High Sleeper said I might be able to see you, so I hoped. And here you are.”

Devika crossed her arms, studying Kitara’s face. “But you’re working with…him?”

“Storm?” Kitara sighed. “Yes. He’s my new handler.”

Devika frowned, her curly hair bouncing as she shook her head in dismay. “You and Storm...”

Kitara eyed her carefully. “Is that something you can handle? If not—”

“Yes, it won’t be a problem,” Devika interrupted hastily. “If it means getting to work with you, talk to you…I can deal. Still, your handler? That’s a volatile pairing.”

Kitara shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that belied the unease fluttering in her stomach. “I didn’t choose him. It was a condition of my accepting this assignment.”

Devika’s lips formed a thin line. “A condition? Or a punishment?”

Kitara glanced away, her gaze landing on the empty desk. “Does it matter?”

“I suppose not. Though, he didn’t look any happier about it than you do. In fact, I’d say he looked rather…thunderous.”

Kitara’s sputter turned into an uninhibited laugh. “Is that a ‘storm’ joke?”

“Obviously.”

Kitara enveloped her friend in another hug. “Stars, I missed you.”

Devika squeezed her back. “Me too.”

“Kenric said we don’t have long.” Kitara drew her friend to the small couch in Kenric’s office.

Devika held Kitara’s hands in her own. “You’re staying in the area, right? You’re not just here…temporarily?”

“I don’t know exactly where, but…yes, I’ll be nearby.”

Devika bit her lip. “Will it be dangerous?”

Kitara spared her a fond smile. “My job is always dangerous, Dev.”

“I know, but this feels different. Can you trust him?”

“I don’t know him well enough to trust him,” Kitara admitted. “But the High Sleeper seems to think he’s capable. Honorable, even. I learned he has Phoebe’s seal of approval too. Don’t worry yet, not before he gives me something to worry about.”

She tried to convince herself of the same even as she reassured her friend.

Handlers and Sleepers developed close relationships, more than best friends, more than lovers, more than family. Holding the life of someone else in one’s hands would do that.

Could she trust her life to the son of the High Councilor who’d rather she didn’t exist at all? She’d seen firsthand what expectations stemming from one’s parentage could mean: for better or worse.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, she personified “the sins of the father don’t extend to the child;” perhaps Storm Avensäel would too.

But Kitara couldn’t tell Devika any of that. Not if she wanted to keep her sister safe from the dangers that accompanied the knowledge of Kitara’s full background.

No one but the High Council knew the extent of her classified past, not even Kenric. For their safety and hers, or so she was told.

You cannot exist.

“I always worry about you,” Devika murmured, drawing her attention back to the present. “And I’m so glad Kenric chose me to be your Historian. Now I can help you whenever you need it…and we won’t have to speak in riddles. Is there anything I should get started on?”

“Not yet,” Kitara admitted. “I don’t know enough. But don’t put off the rest of your work, okay? They won’t want you talking about what you’re doing for me—for us—so I don’t want anyone getting suspicious.”

“I won’t. But Philemon—the head Historian—has given me pretty much free rein now that he’s sure I won’t burn the library down.”

Kitara snorted. “You’d set yourself on fire before risking any of your books.”

Devika grinned. “Probably.”

The door opened, and Kenric stuck his head in. “I’m sorry, but it’s time to go, Kitara.”

She nodded. “Right. Okay.”

The two of them stood together and embraced tightly again.

“I’m sorry we don’t have more time,” Kitara murmured into Devika’s hair.

“I’m just happy I got to see you at all,” Devika whispered, squeezing her tighter. “Be careful. You’ll video-chat with me? When you’re settled?”

“Whenever you want, promise. Even if it’s not work. I love you.”

“Love you too, Kitara.” The Historian stepped away, swiping at her suspiciously bright eyes as she headed through the door, pausing to hug Kenric too. “Thank you for making this happen,” she whispered, her chin trembling as she valiantly fought back tears.

“Happy to, Dev.”

“Don’t be a stranger, okay? I’ve barely seen you.”

Kenric snorted. “I’ll try.”

With another nod and a wavering smile back at her adopted sister, Devika sniffled and disappeared around the corner.

Kitara cleared her throat, trying to swallow past a lump of emotion.

Kenric placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It never gets easier, does it? Saying goodbye.”

She shook her head. “You’d think I’d have had plenty of practice.” She forced a shaky laugh. “I should be a pro by now.”

“I know the feeling,” Kenric said softly, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

Before he could release her completely, Kitara wrapped her arm around him. “It’s good to see you, Kenric. I’ve missed you too.”

The Commander shifted his weight uneasily. “Yeah. Once I transferred here, I just…hit the ground running and never stopped, I guess.”

His punishing work ethic started long before he transferred to headquarters, but Kitara opted not to correct him. Not after what was surely a painful encounter earlier in his office.

Kenric had lost almost as much as she had.

She nodded, giving him a final, commiserating squeeze before releasing him. “I get it. It’s how we cope, right?”

Kenric looked away. “Something like that.” He checked his comm unit on his wrist. “Come on. Let’s get you to the car before Storm starts honking.”

Stifling a laugh, Kitara followed him from his office.

In companionable silence, they wound through another series of hallways until they stepped out of the building to the SUV waiting in the parking lot.

Storm sat in the driver’s seat, appearing unhappy in his current role as her chauffeur. His fingers gripped the steering wheel harder than necessary, turning his knuckles white.

“Thanks, Kenric,” Kitara said as he opened the back door for her.

“Be careful,” he warned and handed her a set of keys. “Stay in touch with the Major.”

Kitara’s eyes flickered to Storm’s profile and the tension radiating from his shoulders, then managed a nod.

Kenric shut the door, closing her in with the silverblood and his raging aura. Kitara pocketed the keys and tried to settle in her seat.

“False floor,” Storm said curtly.

Kitara’s head jerked up. “What?”

“They’re going to check what I’m doing, and you’re not part of my story, which means they can’t see you. There’s a false floor. You’ll need to stay in there for a few minutes.”

Kitara balked. She’d learned to control the claustrophobia—a Sleeper couldn’t risk compromise in such a way. Still, for the briefest of seconds, she considered telling him what she could do: the secret she hid from everyone, even the High Council.

Storm’s expression soured with impatience. “Robert manipulated security for the next fifteen minutes, then it’ll start logging your aura again. We don’t have all day.”

One glimpse of those silver eyes in the rearview mirror, still hard with distaste, and Kitara decided to suck it up. She could manage for five minutes. Feeling around under the seat, she found the latch that opened the floor of the SUV. The compartment wasn’t completely in the floor: most of it comprised the row of seats. That didn’t make it any bigger, though.

Kitara folded herself into the space, shoving down her skin-crawling anxiety. “I swear, if you lock me in here…”

“No thanks,” Storm replied dryly. “I’d rather get you out of the car sooner than later.”

She narrowed her eyes at him through the rearview mirror, then closed herself into the dark space.