Chapter Thirteen

Nothing eventful happened for several days, but the warriors didn't let down their guard. As far as they were concerned, the enemy was simply biding its time, trying to get them off their guard. The fact that the disasters around the world hadn't taken a vacation seemed to help convince them of this fact. Taka had called Luke late last night asking for advice in calming Kaena down. She had apparently been seeing the darkening webs and been unable to do anything against it. The more she saw, the more upset she became, and the less she could think to do about it. Luke had advised distracting her in any way Taka could think of, which had not ended well. So now Vinny was Kaena's escort, and Taka and Luke were traveling as a team.

Taka tried to take his mind off of how miserable he was by focusing on how miserable everybody else in the world must be. There had been a massive earthquake off the pacific northwest which had created an enormous tidal wave. The wave had slammed into the coasts of Oregon, Washington, and northern California, burying the major cities there in flood waters and killing thousands in both the quake and the flood water. The wave had hit Hawaii and Japan a few hours later, although advanced warning had helped to curtail the fatalities. Still, hundreds of thousands in the coastal areas were now homeless.

"Where are we going?" Taka asked.

"To meet Kajri and Kaberi, for the twelfth time," Luke frowned. "What happened last night?"

"It's a long, stupid story," he sighed.

"I have time," Luke said, and then froze. Taka followed his gaze, but saw nothing unusual. The man was completely frozen in place.

"Luke?" Taka shook his stiff shoulders. He fell backwards and was only saved from the pavement by Taka's quick reflexes. "What the hell?"

"He's fine, for now," a familiar voice called. The man they had encountered on the rooftop appeared suddenly. He hadn't stepped around a corner or anything: he had simply appeared. Taka felt the man's power now, subtle, choking Luke's like a tightly clenched fist.

"Let him go!" Taka flared his own great power, and the man took a slight step back. Taka knew he didn't exactly look the part of the big, scary warrior, but he didn't look like a slouch, either. Maybe it was the ferocity with which he had swelled his power that startled the man. Whatever it was, it gave Taka the opportunity to catch him off guard. He flew at the man, ready to pound his face in from sheer frustration, only to find himself suspended in midair.

Alejandro frowned. He was sweating and strained, but managed to keep him from making physical contact. Taka swore and sent his energy in quick bursts toward the man until he, too, swore and fell back. Taka crashed to the ground and scrambled to is feet, while the psychic regrouped. He glanced at Luke. He had managed to move just a bit. At least Taka knew the man's power was limited. If Taka attacked hard enough, would the man's grip on Luke be weakened enough for him to go on the offensive? "What are you doing to him?"

"I've frozen his chi," the man growled.

"Takes a lot of energy, doesn't it?" Taka questioned, stepping toward the man. "Where's your little girlfriend?"

"Visiting your little girlfriend, I believe," the man replied.

Taka swore in three languages and his rage lent him strength he didn't know he had. He charged the man, felt himself hit a psychic wall, and pressed on. Nakago had been accomplished at using his chi in that way, and Taka knew he could break through it. This man was powerful, but not as powerful as Nakago had been in his prime. Enraged and terrified for Kaena, Taka punched through the wall of his power, and the smaller man screamed and stumbled back. Taka pummeled him until he heard Luke scraping around behind, and then he simply held the man by the throat. "You all right?" he called to Luke.

"Fine," he rasped. "I don't think he can breathe."

"That's the idea."

"He's more useful alive for now, Taka," Luke grabbed him by the shoulder. Taka considered punching Luke in the face, but refrained. Luke wasn't his enemy, and he was right, as usual. It would be more useful to squeeze some information out of him, rather than choking the life out of him.

Taka roared and released him. The man scrambled to his feet, clutching his throat. His brown eyes looked haunted and terrified. Taka hadn't immediately noticed, but this one was hardly a man—he looked about sixteen at this distance.

"You're pretty powerful," Luke said, and turned the boy's trick back on him. He squealed in fear, a strangled cry, and clawed at his throat. Luke was slowly choking him. Taka had to admit that he didn't think the bookish man had it in him. "Where are your friends?"

Luke apparently released him, for he gulped air and gasped. "Fuck you."

"That's not nice," Luke squeezed his fingers together again, and the boy struggled. "How many are you?"

"Can't . . . breathe . . . !"

"You haven't fingers, don't you?"

Alejandro held up three fingers. Luke allowed him to take a breath.

"Just the three of you?"

"There are more of us, but only three would fight with her," he rasped.

"Why?"

"Don't know."

"Why are you fighting with her?"

"What do you care?" he was still clutching his throat. Taka glanced at Luke. There was a deadly seriousness about him. As much as he had loved Miaka, and as much as he loved Kaena, so did the rest of the warriors. Did Luke really need to ask that? They followed her because they were bound. As for the others, they would probably never know why they chose not to.

"Call me the Cat. I'm just curious," he said. "Where are the others now?"

"I don't know," he whispered, and croaked as his air was cut off again. Taka could see him struggling against Luke's power, but Taka had drained him with his attack and now he was vulnerable. He struggled and scraped his hands against the invisible power choking him to death.

"Maybe he doesn't know," Taka suggested softly.

The boy's brown eyes were terrified. Was it possible he was simply more terrified of disobeying Penelope than he was of dying at the hands of his enemies? Or maybe there was some other motivation. "You know what she wants to do, don't you?" Taka asked.

The terror in the boy's eyes didn't abate, but instead became more intense. He really didn't know where they were. He was just a pawn, doing this for some reason, and he clearly had a good reason to face down these two fully trained warriors. "Where are they? Are they attacking Kaena?"

He mouthed something, but he was losing consciousness and Taka couldn't make it out. Tears slipped down his too-smooth cheeks, and Taka put his hand on Luke's shoulder. "Let him go."

"What?" Luke glanced over. "He's not going to tell us, and we can't leave him to wander around and attack the others like he did us. What if he goes after Kajri and Kaberi, or Kaena next?"

"Let him go," Taka lowered his voice and frowned. "Luke!" he added sharply.

Luke hesitated. The boy was slipping to his knees, eyes rolling back . . . and Luke released him. The boy panted on the ground, sobbing hoarsely and struggling to sit up. "Why?"

"He's just a kid," Taka said. "Go back to your boss and tell her it's not going to happen. My life may suck right now, but we're humans, and humans want to keep living even if we have to struggle and be miserable. We won't let her. I won't let her. Got it?"

The boy scrambled to his feet and stumbled off around the corner. Taka frowned at Luke. "I didn't think you had it in you to kill like that."

Luke stared at him seriously for a moment. "I didn't think you would do any less to protect your priestess and lover."

Taka was left to ponder this in silence as they made their way across town to Kajri and Kaberi.

...

Sam shuffled his Tarot deck in frustration and thumped his head down on the table. He was getting nowhere. Slowly. He threw the cards in the air in frustration. Sid sat down and started chewing on the corner of one and he dove for it with a cry of dismay. Sid looked at him dolefully and laid down, his brown eyes wide and sad. Rowan knelt down beside him.

"Seen anything helpful?" she asked, assisting his game of 78-card pickup.

"Not particularly. Or at least, not anything that I can make sense out of. I keep seeing different confusing futures. In one of them, I see the end of everything. The card that represents Kaena is set apart, far away from us and from another card that I think represents Taka. In another, Penelope is destroyed, and there's another man there, not one of us, but somehow important. In the third, we all stand against her, and Kaena kills her, but almost all of us die."

"Who is the other man?"

"I have no idea. He's not very powerful, but he has a silver tongue, or so it seems. It indicates persuasion, or . . . ugh. AGH. I have no idea."

Rowan looked thoughtful. Her soft body was pressed against his side now, and Sam felt his body react accordingly. For days she had refused to do more than make out. Which was fine—their making out was pretty heavy, and he didn't want to push her. But it was frustrating, and he was beginning to feel grateful that the hot water in the building had been out for three days.

"Well, the scenario in which a lot of us die is bad, but better than that evil woman destroying the world," she gazed out over the city-scape. Smoke was still rising from the numerous riot fires, car accidents, and oil refinery explosions, making the city look like a war zone. "So we should focus on trying to prevent the destruction of the world, at least. Tell me more about what you see."

Sam gazed inside and away. He had never been able to do it so clearly and easily before, and suspected his power was growing, but it was like he had a new sense; a new part of his brain that looked into the future instead of seeing the present or hearing or smelling. He closed his eyes, focusing on what he had seen in the cards. The cards helped him grasp the future he wanted to explore. Sam inhaled deeply. "I see Kaena, standing alone, all alone, against the three of them."

"Why is she alone?"

"Why . . ." he murmured. "Where is Taka? Where am I?" He looked back, earlier, trying to grasp the images that wafted through his brain like smoke, dissipating, disappearing. "Where is Taka? Taka . . . That's the question, isn't it? Where has he been?" Sam opened his eyes. "Where has Taka been?"

"I haven't seen him in a while. I probably shouldn't tell you this," she paused, biting her lip. "But it might be important, so I'm going to tell you anyway. He cheated on her. I think the wedding's off. It hasn't been said, but that's what it looks like to me."

"How could he cheat on her? He seemed so devoted. Although, I guess Kaena has been kind of cold with him. I don't know them well enough to know if that's normal. Maybe he was driven off."

"Don't sympathize with him!"

"I'm not, I'm just puzzling. It just seems weird. From what Vinny and Luke have mentioned, they were head over heels for each other. I guess it could be cold feet."

"Or maybe he's just a jerk."

Sam didn't think that was so. He hadn't had a lot of time with Taka, but the man was loyal to a fault, and protective as hell. Not in a jealous way, but in a hero way. "Did she say anything else? How did you find out about it?"

"Um, I overheard her talking to Luke. She did say that he seemed genuinely confused, like he didn't know what had happened. I mean, rather than just 'I don't know how it happened' like he literally didn't remember it. Isn't that strange?"

"Yes," he stroked his chin. "I need to think about this more. Maybe we should work on repairing the rift, or figuring out what happened, at least."

Rowan nodded and absently tugged on a necklace she was wearing, which was not her usual cross, but appeared to be one borrowed from Kajri and Kaberi. Sam blinked. "You're not wearing your cross."

"Yeah, I took it off," she said softly. "I don't really know if I believe that anymore. I believe . . . I know there's a God, but when I start thinking of all the virgin birth stuff, and rising from the dead stuff, it's all so fantastical. How could it be true? I guess I just think . . ." she trailed off.

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this. I feel responsible for killing your faith. If I'd have left you to fend for yourself you wouldn't be suffering like this now."

"I would probably not be alive right now. Remember the tornado. And I wouldn't have met you and all these wonderful people. I think that I would rather know the truth than believe comforting lies, or half-truths."

"Did you know that Taka died before? Twice? And Nakago and Nuriko were reborn into this world?" he asked.

"No! I had no idea. Really?"

"You know I don't really believe what you believe, or did believe, but I've seen so much fantastical, crazy shit in the last few weeks that I wouldn't dare write off the possibility of a virgin birth or a resurrection. I sometimes think that maybe that's a clip of truth, that it reveals something about God or gods, like my visions reveal parts of the future. It might not be the whole story, but it's not any less true."

"But how can we know if it's true?"

"That's where I stumble. That's why I don't believe. I wish I could help you."

"I wish, I pray for some sign, something to direct me or show me the truth, but I haven't heard anything. No signs, no miracles. I just want a sign."

Sam sighed and kissed her forehead. She turned to him, and took his lips boldly, unlike she had ever kissed him before. She climbed over his legs and looked him in the face. "Kaena's mom is coming home from the hospital today. But not until later."

He looked into her blue eyes. He could see the confusion there, the pain, the vulnerability. But he also saw desire there; desire which had been beaten back and told to hide, and he wanted her. He stood up and pulled her to her feet, taking her hand. She followed, her cheeks blushing prettily as he led her back to his bedroom. She stood by the bed, and he flipped on a cordless radio to a soft rock station. She looked like a doll, with creamy, pale skin, wavy brown hair, and shy posture. Sam brushed her soft hair from her face.

"Do you want to do this?" he asked, dropping his hands to her waist. Her fingers wandered across his arms, causing the blonde hairs on his arms to stand up straight, and his spine to tingle. She stood on her toes, offering her lips to him again. He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers, gently at first, and then more fiercely. She squealed when he picked her up.

"Put me down! I'm too heavy!" she clung to his neck in terror.

"You're not heavy," he grinned rakishly and laid her out on the bed, climbing over her. She looked nervous; more nervous than he would have expected from her. Then again, her only experiences with sex had probably ranged from painful to merely tolerable. Sam was nervous as hell, having never done the deed before, but he didn't want to make her feel more nervous, so he hid it. His fingers went to her shirt, and unbuttoned slowly. Her face became flushed in embarrassment, rather than simply shyness.

"Don't laugh," she mumbled, looking away.

"Who could laugh at a masterpiece?" he opened her shirt, exposing her soft stomach, and the alluring swell of her breasts, contained by a rather boring bra. He kissed her neck, tasting the delicate sweetness of her skin, and trailed down over her breasts, the valley between them, and down to her stomach. It was soft and curved in a feminine way—delightfully plump and womanly. She giggled as his lips brushed her sides.

"You're ticklish!" he accused, and took a moment to tickle her mercilessly. She panted and gasped when he stopped, laughter still burbling from between her lips. He reached behind her to unclasp the beige bra, and it fell away, revealing full, round breasts. If he had been aroused before, it was painful now.

"You're not going to motorboat me, are you?" she giggled. "You have that look on your face."

"That's crass," he said, and then touched them. "Yay," he declared.

She hit him with a pillow, knocking him sideways. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her body so she faced him. She giggled as he explored them, first with childlike curiosity, then with wonder. He had touched breasts before, but not like this. Not belonging to anyone quite so sweet and beautiful as Rowan.

Tentatively, she reached up and dragged his shirt over his head. He flushed a little. Her eyes were round with wonder, and she touched his abs with amazement, as if she wasn't quite sure if this was real or fantasy.

"What are you thinking about?"

She smirked. "How much better your body is than that asshole's," she wrapped her arms around him and embraced him briefly, before her hungry eyes wanted to look at him again. It felt wonderful to know she desired him the way he desired her. He began to unbuckled her belt, and she grew nervous.

"We don't have to," he said, although his man-parts cried out in protest.

"I want to," she whispered. "I'm just nervous."

"Why?"

"I don't like to be looked at. I don't want it to hurt."

"I love to look at you. And it won't hurt," he whispered, kissing her as his hands undid her pants and pulled them over the lovely, round swell of her hips. He ran his fingers over the womanly curves. Her skin was white as snow beneath her clothes, and soft as silk. He unbuckled his own belt and let his pants and boxers fall away. She glanced down once and looked away quickly, and then did a longer, more thorough examination. Her eyes glinted again, and he assumed that meant he more than measured up to her expectations. He felt his face redden a little, but again that pleased sensation of being met with her desire, rushed through him. He leaned over her, running his fingers through her silky curls.

"Do you have, you know . . . protection?" she asked quietly. "I should have asked before."

Sam dove for the dresser drawer and pulled out a cherry red condom, tearing the package and putting it on. She laughed a little. "I guess I know what that means."

"No pressure! It was all they had," he flushed. In retrospect, he could have looked a bit harder, but he was embarrassed to be browsing condoms at the store. She giggled and kissed him. He looked down at her, suddenly unsure. He didn't want to hurt her, but didn't know if she was ready. Nervously, Sam's fingers wandered between her legs. Judging by the gasp of pleasure, he was doing something right. He watched her face as he pleasured her. Her little fingers clenched against the sheets, and when he finally felt her body relax, knew she was ready.

"Are you sure?" he asked as he slid between her lovely thighs.

She looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then back to his face, and nodded. He slid forward, watching her face carefully to make sure he wasn't hurting her. Her eyes widened a bit—discomfort, or just surprise?-and he settled into her. He released an involuntary groan and leaned forward to kiss her. He began to move, and his body tingled with pleasure as her hands touched his shoulders, his arms, his hair, his face. It felt incredible to be so close to her, to feel so intimately connected.

When he finished, he cleaned them up briefly, and rolled to her side. She snuggled against him, cuddling up against him. He put his hand on her waist and she cringed. "Hey," he whispered. "Don't do that. This," he pinched her chubby side. "Is beautiful, and so is the rest of you."

"You're so handsome," she replied quietly. "It's hard to believe you're not just using me for shits and giggles. I know better, but . . ."

"You do know better," he said firmly, and kissed her again to silence her. They laid there together for a while, just being with one another. Despite the chaos outside and the horrors in his head, right now he was as happy as he'd ever been. His eyes began to dip despite his best efforts. It felt so good to just be here . . .

A tentative knock from the front door snapped him awake. "Are we expecting anyone?"

"You'd figure most of the bunch would just come in. Did we lock it?" Rowan started to get up, dragging the sheet with her as she went, picking up her clothes.

"Stay here," he snatched up his pants and hopped on one foot toward the front door, hoping it wouldn't open before he got himself zipped up. Rowan appeared behind him and he frowned but didn't argue with the determined look on her face.

Sam stumbled over a shoe left scattered on the floor and grunted, annoyed to be pulled out of his warm Rowan-cocoon and sleep for this mysterious stranger. He zipped his pants and peered through the peep hole.

A young man stood there. He was good looking in an academic sort of way, but he wore hospital issue pajamas and, Sam was pretty sure, nothing on his feet except for hospital booties. The man raised his hand again to knock, glancing down to a piece of paper in his hand. Sam sighed and opened the door a crack.

"Can I help you?" Sam asked, frowning.

The man smiled in a nervous/friendly way, dark brows climbing. "I'm Marsden. Kaena said I should meet her here."

...

Marsden watched the man's blank expression carefully, but all the blonde, shirtless man did was stare. He glanced at the piece of paper again, and back to the good-looking man who looked like he had just rolled out of bed. "You are . . . ?" he trailed off invitingly.

"Sam," he said, opening the door slightly wider—perhaps deciding that he could take Marsden, if it came to blows. "You know Kaena?"

"Yes," he dropped his hands, trying not to fidget. "May I come inside? This building seems pretty safe, but I had a hell of a time getting here."

The man finally stepped aside. He was taller than Marsden, and lean, although he looked like he could use a good meal or three to stick to his visible ribs. He noticed a woman standing by the back wall of the living room, craning around the man to see him.

"And how do you know Kaena?"

"That is a complicated question," he smiled in what he hoped was a non-suspicious, non-creepy way. The young woman, also dressed hastily—hmm—made her way toward them. "Hello," he addressed her.

"Hi," her cheek dimpled adorably. "I'm Rowan. You are?"

"Marsden. I was staying at a hospital up in the suburbs, but there was a fire, and rather than letting them round me back up, I decided I was through there, and started walking."

"What kind of hospital was it?" the woman's brows crinkled in concern at the implication. After all, it didn't seem there was anything physically wrong with him, at a glance.

"Not a mental hospital," he assured her with a smile. "I was in there because of a brain injury, which has resolved. Well, as much as it's going to. I got a hold of Kaena and she sent me here and said she would meet me in a little bit. That was a while ago, so I don't know."

"She found out this morning that her mom is being released from the hospital today."

"Oh! Something happened to her mother? She didn't say," he frowned, hoping he wasn't interrupting her homecoming, especially if she was still unwell.

"She had a minor heart attack about a week ago. Very minor," Rowan seemed to have taken over for Sam, who was looking wary and protective like a new boyfriend. "Can I get you anything while you wait? A drink? Bathroom? Shoes?"

Marsden glanced down at his feet and thought of the rubble and glass he had walked through to get here, nodding tiredly. He couldn't well take a taxi. He had been walking and hitching since yesterday. He'd stolen a bike this morning to make it the rest of the way. He felt bad for that, but it seemed to be abandoned. Or at least, it wasn't tied to anything. "Bathroom, and drink, please."

"This way," the blonde man led him down a hallway. He passed an open bedroom with a Bible open on the bed, and another bedroom strewn with what appeared to be the remainder of their outfits. Politely, he did not comment on either. Marsden sat down on the edge of the tub and peeled off his slipper-socks, hoping he hadn't tracked too much blood and grime across the floor. He turned on the water and began to soak his bruised and beaten tootsies, wiggling his toes.

Once he was sure he had gotten out all the large chunks of glass and splinters of wood, he dried his feet and pissed, washing his hands and face. He looked like a pretty damn suspicious character, if he were to be totally honest about it. His brown eyes had dark bags beneath them, and his hair was, while combed into submission, presently pretty greasy and gross looking. Thinking better of going back out like a hobo, he hopped quickly into the shower and rinsed himself off, giving his hair a decent scrub before toweling off and pulling his dirty hospital bottoms back on. The top was too smelly to touch again.

He emerged a few minutes later, and was pleased to see that one of the two had dug up a clean shirt and a pair of sweat pants from somewhere. The fit was relatively good, and he returned to the bathroom to change. He was met this time with cool water, crackers, and, oddly, caviar, as well as some cheese and apples.

"Is this where Kaena is living now? Doesn't she live north of here? Or is this Taka's new place?"

"It her parents' place," Sam said. "How did you say you know Kaena?"

"I didn't. It's kind of a complicated story, but we've been visiting recently. Or rather, she's been visiting me in the hospital. I was one of Luke's students."

"Oh!" Rowan said. "That explains where I've heard the name. Wait . . . didn't you try to kill Kaena before?"

"Um, yes. But that was a while ago, and I promise, I'm better now. I actually have no memory of the incident. Or anything prior to it," he said as an aside. "She did invite me here, though."

"That sounds well enough like Kaena," Sam conceded. "Or at least like her mother, anyway. She should be back soon."

"I'm sorry if I interrupted anything," he hoped he was not being too obvious, and tried to at least look somewhat abashed.

"It's, um," Rowan flushed hotly. "We weren't, I mean..."

"You didn't," Sam concluded, obviously feeling for her awkwardness.

Marsden lowered his eyelids and munched slowly on the apples. He didn't much care for caviar or cheese, but he was a man who enjoyed fruit. He ate as slowly as possible, to avoid having to make more small talk. He could hear a clock in the room ticking loudly and realized he wasn't even sure what time it was.

It felt like an eternity, and he didn't think he could slowly chew another bite when he heard voices approaching in the hallway. The door thumped open, and in trooped Kaena with a small, older woman, playfully trying to shrug her off, a tall, dashing older man who was clearly her father, and another man who he thought might have been Taka. The older man stopped when he saw Marsden, and the other man's jaw dropped.

"Oh, you're the man who tried to kill me," Kaena's father said.

"Marsden! What the hell are you doing here?"

"I invited him," Kaena snapped coldly. She turned her icy blue gaze on him and smiled in a strained sort of way. "The hospital he was in burned down, so I told him to come. Papa, he has no memory of what he did."

"So you've said," his dry voice was deep and rumbled across the room.

"Mama, are you okay?" Kaena asked, worriedly glancing at the woman's pale face.

She smiled, her hazel eyes sparkling. "I'm starving. And tired. And I have to pee. Take me somewhere to do one of the things my body wants!"

Obediently, Kaena led her mother back to one of the bedrooms, leaving Marsden surrounded by Kaena's looming father and her equally looming, if shorter, fiancé. "I, um. I'm sorry. For everything I did. I don't remember it, but I'm sorry." He glanced at Kaena's father. "You are Mr. Gi? I hope you've suffered no lasting effects from what I did."

The man stared at him with ice blue eyes, eerily like his daughter's, and eventually shrugged one broad shoulder. "If you step out of line, there are plenty of people here to take care of it."

"Um."

"That's not a threat, by the way. It's a promise," Taka muttered as he passed, leaving him alone again with Rowan and Sam. Kaena's father gave the two of them an odd little smirk before disappearing into the kitchen. Sam grinned. Rowan blushed.

Kaena emerged a few minutes later, looking him up and down and raising one pale brow. "So how did you escape?"

"I didn't escape so much as not return after all the commotion of the fire. Which I did not start, in case you were wondering. It was some weird electrical accident. It was the damnedest thing, too. But anyway, thanks for letting me come here."

"I wasn't about to let you wander out there," she frowned. "You've met my warrior Sam, and his friend Rowan, I see. You know the rest, I believe. Well, except, I guess you don't. The other man you saw was Taka, my, uh, Taka. And the one that looked like me was obviously my father."

"I gathered."

"The others will be around later. Don't be surprised if they're a bit put out about having you here. You did try to kill several of them, and me."

"It won't happen again," he assured her in what he hoped was a genuine fashion. One thing Marsden had noticed recently was that conveying emotions that seemed to happen naturally for others took some amount of effort for him. Kaena had had to explain to him that he often came off in such a way that others had trouble correctly perceiving. Not that she was much better, she had admitted, but he had been watching the nurses and other patients ever since, and thought he was improving.

"There isn't really much extra room here, but . . ."

"He can have one of our rooms," Rowan said unexpectedly. "Right?"

Sam's face lit up. "Yes! He can have my room, I'll move my stuff over to Rowan's. If you're sure?" he looked at her in a kind of nervous anticipation. She smiled demurely and motioned for him to follow down the hall, and disappeared into the room with the rumpled bedsheets.

"Good. You can have Sam's room," Kaena said, and disappeared toward the kitchen.

Marsden trusted somebody would give him clean linens.