Demon's Journey

~ ZEV ~

It took as long to reach the village at Sasha's pace as it would have taken him to get to the City alone. He was carrying both bags, but they weren't overly heavy. On his own he would barely have been slowed. But it was no matter, he reminded himself. Having Sasha here was all that was important.

When they were within a mile of the village, he'd stopped talking to Dunken—it was only depressing and worrying anyway—and dropped back to walk with Sasha, urging Yhet to go forward and join Dunken.

She held onto his arm, her eyes wide as she examined the forest around them. But she didn't say much, letting Yhet and Dunken tease each other, and Zev call the occasional comment.

It wasn't like her to be so quiet.

"Are you okay?" he asked her at a whisper. The others would be able to hear them, but she likely didn't realize that yet, and he didn't want her to cover. They would be polite and pretend they couldn't hear.

But when he asked, she laughed a stuttering little laugh. "Of course I'm not okay!" she hissed. "It's just occurred to me that by this time I was supposed to be at work. Rob will be beside himself—probably calling the Police. I know how that feels, Zev. It's horrible!"

Zev winced. "I'm sorry for his worry, but there's no way around it. Any word we might have passed to anyone to reassure them would only lead those men to us."

She nodded, her lips twisting. "They were really trying to kill me?"

"They would have killed you," he corrected. "Their first goal was to take you. To interrogate you. But towards the end there, once they realized we might actually get away, they would have killed you rather than let that happen."

"Why?"

"Because they know that killing you would have stopped me. I wouldn't have left you in their hands. And they also know that running with you will keep me away. I'm sorry, Sash. I know I should have told you all of this sooner, or… something. But there really wasn't another way. When I saw you last night…" he sighed and squeezed his arm tighter against his side, pinning her gloved hands to his ribs. "Knowing I was going to talk to you, to touch you, that was the best moment of the last five years," he said, then looked at her from the corner of his eye.

Sasha's face softened… then tensed. "If that's true… why did you leave?"

"I don't have time to tell you the whole story," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "But please believe me, I wouldn't have gone if I'd known what it would cost you—and me. I was… lied to, and pressured. And I was too young to realize that's what was happening. I thought my entire people depended on me and… and I thought it wouldn't be for so long. I thought I would have you back after a year or so."

"What did they say? What could have made you leave? Zev, we were in love! That was real!"

"It's still real, Sasha. At least for me," he added, turning to look at her face, her forehead lined with grief, her eyes narrowed and flashing with anger.

"I… I want to believe you, Zev. I do. But… you have to see. It's been five years!"

"Yes, I know," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "But just know, I haven't wavered in that time."

"Please, you've been sexing yourself silly with hundreds of women."

He shook his head, grimacing as his mind took him back to the horrific conditions of some of the recent females that he'd been forced to pretend he didn't notice. "No, Sasha, believe me. There was nothing… nothing emotional in those… interactions." His stomach felt sick. "Especially lately. The whole program… it's sick, Sash. The only reason I hadn't come for you sooner was because I was convinced you were safer without me. But recently that changed."

"What changed?"

He looked down at her and his heart expanded. She had what the humans described as a heart shaped face—wider at the temples, narrowing to a chin just shy of sharp. He used to joke that her face was the shape of his heart. Her eyes always went soft when he said that.

Her eyes, catlike and flashing followed his face as he lifted his other hand to catch a strand of her mahogany hair that had stuck to her cheek and returned it to the rest to ruffle around her shoulders.

The truth was, it wasn't just her face. Sasha was the shape of his heart.

As they took the final corner in the trail before they would reach the outskirts of the village, he tried to find the words that would describe what he'd experienced in the past few months, but he couldn't.

Did it matter? Did any of it matter except his feelings for her, and hers for him?

"My life without you has not been full, Sash," he said hoarsely. "And lately… lately I realized that without you I was dying inside. Maybe not literally, but… it was like my heart was shriveling. I had to be closer to you. I didn't know when I went out last night that that would be the night. But I am so glad that it was."

She looked like she was about to respond, raised one of her hands to put it to his chest and he hoped—prayed—that the words that came out of her mouth would be the beginning of their return to each other in truth.. But just as she opened her mouth, an echoing howl rose from the trees to their right and Zev froze.