Blacklisted (Young Adult Alien Huntress 2) - Page 34/47

“We slept.” Would I have done more if we hadn’t been interrupted this morning? I didn’t know. Okay, I did know. Yeah. I would have. Eagerly. Happily. “I swear we didn’t do anything except sleep, though.”

Disappointment clouded her features. “That seems to be the way of it in this house, no matter how hard you try.”

“So you and Silver didn’t…you know?”

She shook her head, red curls flying. “I wish.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Silver asked in his deep, rumbling voice.

“Nothing,” Shanel told him, then skipped back to the table. “Just girl stuff.”

I followed her and Erik kicked out a chair for me—the one beside him. The Morevv housekeeper, Rose, walked over and placed a platter of that scaly blue stuff on the table, then left us alone.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Brentaes. They’re like fish, only they don’t live in water and they come from my planet,” Silver answered. “My father brought the animal with him when he came to Earth and has raised and bred them ever since.” He scooped some onto his plate. A fine string of slime stretched from one plate to the other. “It’s good. Try it.”

I looked at Erik. He nodded and mouthed, Try it.

Great. No help there. Not wanting to offend the host, I tentatively reached out and pinched a section of the brentaes between my fingers. Firm. Warm. A little grainy. Slowly I placed the square into my mouth. I chewed. My brow wrinkled. Not bad, I realized. “Tastes like chicken.”

Erik laughed.

Shanel tossed a piece at me and it left a trail of slime down my shirt.

Silver rolled his eyes.

That’s when Silver’s dad strode into the room, whistling under his breath. He was wearing that half-mask; his metallic gray eyes (hadn’t they been amber last night?) glowed brightly. I’d been reaching for a piece of syn-bacon so I could throw it at Shanel, but I froze, hand poised midair.

He spotted me and stopped. His gaze then took in the rest of the scene. How comfortable we were with one another. How at ease we were in the house. Well, not so at ease anymore. Everyone sat completely still, completely silent, waiting for his reaction.

“The guards told me the four of you were here, but I assumed you would still be in bed. Heard you held your own last night. Sorry about your arm,” he told me. He snatched a few pieces of syn-sausage and left.

O-kay. I’d kind of expected him to attack me. At the very least, threaten me again.

Erik drained a glass of juice, unconcerned, as if there’d never been anything to worry about. “I’ve already told Silver everything that happened. He wants to protect his dad and the…product.” He glanced meaningfully at an oblivious Shanel—who must not know about the Onadyn. “Which means he needs to help us.”

“What product?” Shanel asked. Nope, she didn’t know. She heaped her plate with food. “And help you with what?”

Yeah. With what? Escaping A.I.R.?

Erik explained bits and pieces of the situation, omitting all references to Onadyn and A.I.R., claiming there was a misunderstanding with a group of boys from our school. When he finished, Shanel clapped happily and cheered about what an “adventure” this was.

Had I once been so naive?

Silver had the opposite reaction. His expression hardened with every second that passed. Obviously one of the reasons he and Erik were so close was that they both felt the same way about Outers who needed Onadyn but couldn’t get it through legal means.

“I’ve got to run to the bathroom,” Shanel said, popping to her feet. “Want to come with me, Camille?”

I shook my head, content to stay with Erik.

Pouting slightly, she said, “Don’t say a word until I get back,” and flounced off, a flash of red.

“There’s something you should know, Camille,” Erik said a moment later. He paused and dread washed over me. “Silver’s a half-breed. He’s part of two different alien races: Morevv and Arcadian.”

I think my jaw hit the floor. “That’s—that’s impossible. Right?”

“I assure you, it is possible. It’s simply not talked about. Scientists deny it, agents deny it, though a few suspect. At camp, I even heard rumors that Mia Snow was a half-breed, part human, part Arcadian. And I know some of my other instructors were aliens of some kind, whether they were full or half.” He shrugged.

Mia’s face flashed into my mind. Flawless skin. Exquisitely arched eyebrows. Small nose. Silky black hair, and eyes so blue they were unfathomable pools. Almost, dare I think it, other-worldly.

Alien and human. Wow. Just wow.

“I need Onadyn to live,” Silver said. “Which was why my dad makes and sells it. He doesn’t want me to be dependent on the government for my survival. Not when that support can be taken away in the blink of an eye, leaving me helpless.”

Erik reached over and laced our fingers together. “Silver’s one of the reasons this mission is so important. Silver and others like him. Before I take you any further, I need to know that you’re in this until the end. No matter what.”

I didn’t have to think about it. I nodded. “Of course I’m in this until the end.” I only hoped the end came later rather than sooner.

“Good.” He nodded. “I’ve been mulling this over and here’s what I think we should do…”

11

“Are you sure this will work? What if it doesn’t?” The words poured from me as I stared out the window of our car, other vehicles whizzing past us. It was midmorning on a bright, sunny Sunday, so everyone in the world was out and about, it seemed.

Erik flicked me a patient glance. “It’ll work. I wouldn’t put you in any more danger than necessary.”

“Don’t take your eyes off the road!” I gasped out. He was driving Silver’s Jag manually, which scared the crap out of me. When the computer was in charge, the turns and stops were smooth. When Erik was in charge, I was jerked forward and backward repeatedly.

“This will work.”

We were supposed to divide A.I.R., half following us, half following Silver and Shanel because it was easier to lose a half rather than a whole. The downfall: There could be another car chase and I didn’t think my heart could take it without bursting a few vessels.

Silver lining: Death might be okay now.

Another downfall: We’d been at this for half an hour and we hadn’t yet lost our tail.