Ghosts haunt our steps—ghosts of our pasts, ghosts of our futures—ghosts of our fears.  The trick is learning to overcome them.

— Ambassador Alexander Channing, Psychean Guard, c. 5203

 

1 Decem, 5249 PD

“Have they noticed that you stopped hanging around as much?”  Ezra asked as he handed Alana a glass of wine from the bottle he’d just opened.  It was a new vintage from last year’s crop at his sister’s vineyard on the capital’s outskirts.

“I’m sure they have,” Alana said, leaning against the deck’s railing.  “No one’s said anything, but I think they’re smart enough to realize what’s going on.”  She smiled as Ezra blushed.  She reached up, the fingers of her flesh and blood hand brushing against his cheek and jaw.  “And you shouldn’t be embarrassed about it.  I knew how you were looking at me a long time ago.”

Ezra shook his head with a rueful smile. “No one else did.”

“I think Rachel did,” Alana said softly.  She set her glass down and stepped into him, resting her head against his shoulder as Ezra slid his arms around her waist.  “She kept dropping hints that Lindsay was a grown woman and she didn’t need me hanging around and making sure she was safe.  She didn’t know about my promise to Commander Channing.”

“She didn’t know that Lindsay was the only family you had left,” Ezra said quietly.  He kissed her temple, his arms tightening around her.  “I don’t blame you.”

“It’s not about blame,” Alana whispered into his neck.  “It can’t be.  Self-recrimination would eat me alive if it was about blame.”

“‘Lana—”

She shook her head, straightening and looking at him.  “No, Ez.  At some point, I have to confess everything to someone and that’s going to be you if this is going to work.  If you and I are going to work.”

His expression softened and he cupped her face between his palms, thumbs brushing across her cheeks.  “I want this to work.”

“I know,” she whispered, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue.  “So do I.  I’ve already told you more than I’ve ever told anybody.  That doesn’t usually happen with someone like me.”

“Was it the way you were trained?” he asked quietly.

She nodded.  “They took me from my family when I was so small,” she said as she rested her forehead against his.  “I barely managed to figure out how to be human, let alone something close to normal.  To trust someone.”

“You trusted Commander Channing.  You trusted Rachel.”

“Not the way I trust you,” she said, swallowing hard.  “You’re different, Ez.  I want to tell you everything but I’m so afraid it’s going to scare you away.”

“You’re not afraid of anything,” he said, brushing hair back from her face.  She winced and looked down and he froze.  Ezra tucked his fingers under her chin and gently lifted her gaze to his.  “Right?”

There were tears in her eyes.  He didn’t think that anyone else had ever seen her cry.

“Alana.”

“The only thing I’m afraid of is losing you somehow.  Scaring you away.” She buried her face against his neck and held on tight, as if she was afraid he’d run right here, right now, before she had the chance to tell him anything beyond what he already knew.

He knew that the Eurydice Compact had taken her from what little family she’d had before her eighth birthday.  He knew that they’d trained her as one of their elite agents, as a killing machine.  She’d been good at it.  Then Grant Channing had found her when he infiltrated the Compact, hunting for his half-brother, Sandro.  He’d found Sandro’s daughter—Alana—instead.

Then she’d run from them and come here to safeguard Grant’s only daughter, Lindsay.  It was an all-consuming responsibility for the former conglomerate weapon.

And now they were here, and she was free.

“I waited for almost ten years for you,” Ezra said softly.  “Almost from the day I realized that it was okay to have a crush on someone.  There isn’t anything you could say or do that would make me run.”  He laced his fingers through her hair.  “I’ve already heard horror stories, ‘Lana.  I know about the pain and the blood and what they ask people like you to do.  But I also know that you’re not like some of the monsters out there.  Your father and your grandmother made sure of that before the Compact sunk their claws into you.”

“That’s the only reason I’m sane,” she said quietly, then managed a weak laugh.  “If you could call me that.”

“I do,” Ezra said.  “You’re as sane as any of the rest of us.”

“That doesn’t say much for our collective sanity, does it?”

He laughed.  “I guess not.”

Her arms tightened.  “I love you, Ezra,” she said into his neck.  It was the first time she’d managed to say it since she’d realized how she felt—how he felt.  Despite the past several days that they’d spent together, the nights when they’d been inseparable, she’d never been able to voice how she felt.

Now she had, and it sent shuddery butterflies racing around in her guts.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, then kissed her ear.  “Come on.  Let’s go inside.”

“It’s not even dark yet,” Alana said softly.

He smiled.  “That just means we’ve got more time.”

Alana laughed and let him lead her inside.