Page 27 of Paradise

“Some of them change colors when they feel nervous or alarmed, or when they’re defending themselves,” Thérèse told him, crouching down next to him. “Oh, even his eyestalks are changing color. He’s a mad little guy.”

“We should put him in the container Garrett made,” Cody said. “Then we can take him back for my science project, and then we can bring him back out here so he can be in his home again.”

“Where is the container?”

“I left it in the car.” Thérèse gave him alook, and he said defensively, “It’s too heavy to carry around for hours and hours! Will you go get it, please? Pleeeeeease? I can’t run as fast as you, and he might be gone by the time I get back!” He widened his eyes a little and clasped his hands pleadingly.

“You’re already too much like him,” Thérèse groused, but she pushed up from the ground and walked in long strides back toward the shuttle. Cody turned back to watch the salamapede, entranced by the way it waved back and forth, back and forth. It was kind of … hypnotizing. He leaned in a little closer, putting his hand down on the overturned rock to help hold himselfup as he did. He didn’t even see the tiny, almost translucent insect huddled behind a plant bud that he almost crushed or feel its stinger scratch the base of his palm. He did feel the heat blossoming immediately in his hand, though, making it feel stiff and spiky.

“Ow!” Cody sat up and looked at his hand. It was pink, becoming red, and there was a little black circle down near the bottom of it, right in the middle of the irritation. “Thérèse?” he called out, not really scared but starting to feel a little dizzy. Uh-oh. Dizzy wasn’t good. “Thérèse …” He slumped back onto his bottom and watched his fingers multiply before his eyes. It looked like a monster’s hand.

There was the sound of something falling, then fast footsteps running to his side. “Cody?” Thérèse was there, holding him up in her arms as she bent her head close to his. “Whathappened?”

“I just put my hand on the rock,” he protested, “there wasn’t even anything there. I just wanted to look a little closer.” His hand spiked with pain, enough to make him whimper. “I don’t feel good.”

“We have to get you back to the mansion now,” Thérèse said briskly. She hoisted him into her arms and started walking again, fast but not quite running. Cody’s vision was a little blurry, but he could tell when they were back in the shuttle, and he felt the sudden tightness of a pressure bandage around his arm. The shuttle was moving, and Thérèse was talking into a com.

“I need to know if antihistamines are contraindicated for him. No, he was stung by something, I don’t know what. No … no, he needs medical helpnow, I didn’t have time to look for the animal.” Cody felt her hand press lightly on his throat. “No, no problems with his breathing yet, and his pulse seems regular. But he said he doesn’t feel good, he was on his side when I found him, and he’s in pain. Yes. I’ll bring him in that way.”

They weren’t far from the mansion. It only took ten minutes to get back at top speed, but by then Cody’s hand was itching as well as painful, and he scratched at it fruitlessly before Thérèse noticed he was doing it and held his other hand down. “No, no, Cody,” she said to him, gentle but notright. She wasn’t who he wanted. Tears welled in his eyes, and he couldn’t stop them even though he didn’t want to cry now; he was toobigto cry.

The shuttle stopped, and people were there, strange hands and strange people, and Cody didn’t like it. He felt cold and hot all at the same time. They laid him down on a soft surface, and he was okay, he really was, until something sharp went into his arm. He wailed and tried to kick, but he wasn’t strong enough.

“He doesn’t like needles,” a new voice said, and it was one of the best voices. Cody’s vision was blurry, but he turned toward Garrett anyway. “Let me through.” A second later, the bed shifted, and Garrett guided Cody’s head onto his lap.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Cody felt a cool kiss on his forehead. All of Garrett felt refreshingly cool. He buried his face in Garrett’s stomach and whimpered. “I know, it sucks, buddy. But they have to give you another couple shots, okay? It’ll make you feel better. I promise.”

“Don’ like ’em.”

“I know, but it’ll be over with soon. I promise.”

Cody sighed heavily. “’kay.”

“Thank you.” Garrett ran his hands through Cody’s hair and distracted him during the other shots and when the doctor took blood. He got kind of fuzzy after that, but what he did know was that Garrett didn’t leave. He stayed, and it was almost as good as having Daddy there.

Chapter fifteen

Jonah

The bright spot was, Cody would be okay. That was the one glowing, sparkling, shiny fucking bright spot in Jonah’s life right now. The doctor had figured out what stung Cody and given him the appropriate antivenin, but because he was a natural, it was going to take a lot longer for his body to deal with both the toxin and the side effects of the cure. The dizziness and nausea the poor kiddo was suffering from would taper off gradually, though he’d need to be under observation for a few days. Cody was going to be fine, though.

Jonah didn’t want to think about the rest of it. Decisions had to be made, he had to … he had to … fuck, he had to tell Garrett what was going on. He had to tell him about Kilroy, about Jack, even though something deep in his soul quailed at the thought of betraying his people. Except Drifters weren’t his people anymore, Garrett was his people, Garrett and his family, but …

Jonah knew it would just take more time. He had to acclimate to a new way of living, but he couldn’t look around this placewithout thinking about how far beyond his scope it was. Even on Paradise, where they had their own house, it was still modest. Three bedrooms, a communal living space, a decent-size kitchen, bathrooms, and storage built into most of the walls, and it felt cozy. It felt right.

This place, it was just too big. Too opulent. God knew Jonah appreciated the private infirmary, the doctors, all the toys for Cody, everything that Miles’ position and prominence could do for his child. There were no permanent treatments for being a natural, but apparently, there were a lot of private therapies that could help boost immune efficiency and even do a little to prolong life. All of that was great.

What wasn’t so great was thewaste. There was so much space here, too much for so few people. The mansion was a status symbol, Jonah got that, but it was the kind of symbol he had learned to dislike and distrust from an early age. He could sympathize with Kilroy despite all of the man’s crudeness and backhanded ways because he knew how terrible it could be on a ship when your potential ports were drying up, and supercilious authorities jerked you around and denied you access to medical facilities, to credit, to the chance to set up shop. It was a terrible thing to be so isolated and alone, especially when you were in need. And it was hard to reconcile those early experiences with what he was living now.

Garrett stirred against his chest, slowly coming out of a fitful sleep. Jonah bent his head and inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of his lover as he took a long look at his face. Garrett looked tired, and he still felt cold despite their close embrace. His skin was strangely waxy, and sweat dotted his forehead and the dark circles just beneath his eyes. Jonah had seen Garrett exhausted, he’d seen him stressed, and he’d seen him in a state of drugged-up post-operative fugue, but he’d never seen him look quite this bad.

Guilt assailed Jonah, and he pulled Garrett a little closer just as his fiancé’s pale eyes opened. This was his fault; Garrett was worried sick, and there was no reason for him to be. Or, well, actually there were plenty of reasons but not for what Garrett was probably thinking about.

“Hey, darlin’,” Jonah said, speaking softly so he wouldn’t wake Cody, who was stretched out against his leg. The infirmary bed was surprisingly big and could accommodate all three of them without too much trouble.

“Hey,” Garrett replied, his voice a little hoarse. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“Wasn’t sleepin’,” Jonah confessed.

---