“Go back.” She was struggling to wrap her brain around this. “How would this device alter someone’s appearance? I mean, how is that even possible?”
“By messing with the brain waves of a population with a specific gene. Gibus was unable to perfect the device, however. It alters the perspective of everyone, including those who’ve used the device, and had it used on them. This would have made it exceedingly difficult for us to trust what we saw. If the enemy realized what we were up to, for instance, all they had to do was switch out the double for the real person, and we would never know.”
“I’m sorry.” She rubbed at her temples. “I’m seriously slow right now.”
“You still don’t understand.”
“No.”
He tugged something out of his back pocket. It was a little larger than her iPhone, and square instead of rectangular. It looked more like a piece of glass, but when he tapped the center, it turned black. He pressed at it a few more times and then turned it around so she could see the screen.
A dark-haired girl smiled coyly at her from it.
“This is Lissa Olena,” he said. “As the Ander, it is my job to ensure her safety.”
“I walked into her,” Delaney told him.
He actually looked sorry for her, putting the device back into his pocket. “She walked into you, more like.”
“She did something to me.” It wasn’t a question, because that had already been established. Suddenly she was extremely tired. The warring emotions of panic and fear and anger had drained her.
“I imagine that’s when she used the device to alter your appearance,” he agreed, waving at her body.
“Oh shit.” She slumped back down onto the cot, dropping her head into her hands. That explained so much, why he’d taken her, why he’d insisted that she was messing with him. Why those people had shot her.
“Why are the Tars after her again?” she asked.
“They don’t agree with the peace treaty,” he surprised her by answering. “They’re a small rebellious group formed of Kints who disagree with their Rex’s decision to end the war.”
“Is a Rex like a president?”
“More like a king,” he corrected. “We still operate as a monarchy of sorts.”
“Okay, so Rex means king.”
“Their king. Vakar and Kint, you would call them countries, with slightly differing languages. Our king, the Vakar king, is called a Basileus. Our queen is Basilissa. And our princess—”
“Is called Lissa.” Delaney let out a slow breath and leaned back against the wall, drained. “I’ve been played by a goddamn alien princess.” None of this made any sense. “Why?”
For a second it didn’t seem like he was going to tell her, but he must have seen something on her face, because he gave in and came to sit next to her on the small cot. Settling, he angled his body so that his back was to the door and he could hold her gaze.
“The peace treaty between my people and the Kints was built on an arranged marriage,” he divulged. “Olena has been on Earth for the past five years, for her denzeration. It’s a period in every Vakar’s life when they come of age and are allowed to explore Earth. To get to know the planet, the primitive life-forms there, and decide if they’d like to stay as an analyst, or if they’d like to return to Xenith.
“Being our Lissa, Olena knew when she left that staying on Earth was never really an option for her, but she’d convinced her parents to allow her to take the right anyway. Last week marked the end of her denzeration, and she was supposed to meet me and come back home.”
“Let me guess,” she said, stopping him. “She never showed.”
“No, she did not. Somehow the Tars discovered she was somewhere on Earth, unprotected, and sent assassins. I managed to track her to Portland. She clearly wanted me to find her so that she could lead me to you. She used you as a distraction, Delaney. I’m”—he hesitated—“sorry.”
Despite everything going on, the corner of her mouth twitched. “Not something you say often, huh?”
“No,” he admitted, smiling some himself. “If I had known she’d gotten her hands on Gibus’s prototype, that it hadn’t been destroyed like I’d ordered, I wouldn’t have taken you the way that I did. I can tell this is all very frightening for you.”
“I’m not frightened,” she insisted, instantly switching from tired to defense mode.
“I don’t blame you,” he told her easily. “It’s a scary situation. You said it yourself: You don’t know much about my people.” He cocked his head. “You aren’t one of those humans who are fascinated by us.”
She snorted. “Definitely not.”
The door opened up at his back, and the other guy from the alley stepped inside. Closing the hatch behind him, he waited until Ruckus had turned on the cot so that he could easily look at them both.
“We have a problem, Ander.” His voice was melodious, lighter than Ruckus’s, and smooth. He glanced over at Delaney momentarily but didn’t address her as Gibus had.
His long-sleeved green shirt was tucked into his pants, the zipper in the center done all the way up, closing the inch-wide collar around his neck. His hair was swiped back the same as the last time she’d seen him, held there by some sort of gel. It was a light brown, a match to his eyes, though when she looked closely, she could just make out the ring of dark blue around the outside of the otherwise tan irises.
“Pettus, you spoke to Gibus?” Ruckus asked.
“Yes—”
“How close are we to Xenith?”
“We’ve got an estimated three ticks till we breech the atmosphere. But”—his eyes trailed over to Delaney for a split second—“that isn’t the problem I was referring to, Ander.”
Suddenly a red light began flashing on the ceiling, and a loud beeping noise sounded.
Ruckus swore again, but Pettus was already continuing.
“It’s the Zane, Ander.” He paused and glanced between them. “He’s here.”
CHAPTER 4
“Who’s the Zane?” Delaney frowned, not liking the way they were looking at each other. Like something terrible was about to happen—something even more terrible than taking the wrong person from another planet.
“They’re about to board,” Ruckus said, ignoring her, his attention on Pettus. “We’re out of options. She’s going to need to convince him.”
Pettus nodded, clearly understanding, and Ruckus moved over to the door, pressing a palm flat against a panel on the wall. Static crackled through it for a second, and then Gibus’s voice filtered into the room.
“Bring me a hebi,” Ruckus ordered.
Pettus stepped up to her. “Here’s the thing: You look like Olena. Exactly like her. And, well, we sort of need you…” He waved both hands in air as if juggling invisible balls.
She tilted her head at him, scrunching up her face in the process. What was he going on about? Why the hell couldn’t any of them just speak plainly?
“You need to pretend to be Olena,” he stated.
She couldn’t help it—she snorted. “Yeah, right.”