She stops in her tracks, then squares her shoulders and continues walking. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“What was that all about?”
“What was what about?”
“Why did all the girls stop and gasp at you?”
She shrugs, just as I place my hand on the small of her back to guide her towards the medical center. “Probably because I’m a sexy pink princess who looks like she’s about to kill them.”
Truth, I decide.
“Why are we going to the medical center? Do I need to do something to get my communicator to work? No one chimed me yesterday to let me know it was online.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “I’ll have to ask ALCOR about that.”
“If we’re not here for that, then why are we here?” she asks, just as the door to the medical center opens.
But the cyborg master is waiting for us. He’s wearing a jacket with elbow patches, a pair of gray slacks, and a fake lens over his one cyborg eye like he’s wearing glasses.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” I ask him.
He looks down at himself, then back at me, and says, “My therapist outfit.”
“Therapist?” Lyra says.
“Whatever,” I say, nodding to the master. “Where do you want us?”
“We’re going to therapy?” Lyra says.
“This way,” the master says, leading us down the hallway.
“Why the hell are we going to therapy?” Lyra says, stopping in her tracks.
“Because something is wrong,” I say, taking Lyra’s hand and pulling her down the hallway.
“How could something be wrong? I just met you three days ago.”
“Just…” I sigh and rub my temple with one finger. “Just humor me, OK? I think we need to talk this whole soulmates thing through, that’s all.”
“That’s all?” she asks, stopping at the threshold to the office. Then she crinkles her nose as she takes in the room.
There are two therapy couches. So when I sit down on one, and she sits down on the other, we’ll be facing each other.
“And…” I add, tugging her into the room so the door can close behind us. “I think you’re keeping things from me and I need to know what.”
She folds her arms across her breasts—which are practically popping out of her bodysuit—and scowls.
“What?” I ask.
“You ambushed me.”
“It’s not an ambush, Lyra,” the master says.
“And are you kidding me right now? He’s the therapist? What part of ‘I don’t like this guy’ don’t you get? Because I thought I made that clear. Several times.”
“Lyra,” the master says, sitting in his giant, wingback, leather chair and crossing his legs as he looks up at us from over the top of his fake glasses and pretends to makes notes on a tablet. “I’m certified in—”
“Thirty billion different couples’ therapy techniques for seventy billion different species. I know. All you people seem to be certified in everything. Maybe that’s the problem with this place. Don’t you believe in specialists?” She turns to look at me. “Serpint, what’s going on?”
“I just think we need to talk,” I say, rubbing her arm. “Can we do that? Please?”
She frowns. “About what?”
“About us. About this bond thing. And the way you light up. And then… the way you didn’t light up. Last night. We had to work for it, Lyra. It’s never happened before. It’s not normal.”
“We’ve known each other three days,” she protests. “We don’t even know what normal is yet! And besides, what makes you think this jerk knows anything about me or why I do things?”
The cyborg master opens his mouth to assure her of his qualifications, but the answer, “I know many things about you, Lyra,” is omnipresent and comes from everywhere. And it’s ALCOR talking now, not the master.
Lyra scowls again.
“Please,” ALCOR says. “Just take a seat and relax. We’ll get to the bottom of things.”
She looks worried at that comment. Like she doesn’t want to get to the bottom of things.
That makes my heart pound because now I know… my fear is real.
I’m about to lose her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT – LYRA
It was an ambush. And now I’m trapped in this room with that vile cyborg and ALCOR has been called in to “get to the bottom of things.”
Which means they know.
They might not know specifics. In fact I’m sure they don’t. But they know something is going on with me.
“So…” Serpint says, breaking the silence. “Sit?”
I sigh as I walk around the couches, take a seat on one, and sit back.
Serpint does the same, never taking his eyes off me.
“OK,” the monster master says. “What kind of questions do you have for Lyra, Serpint?”
His eyes never unlock from mine. He just stares at me with that dim, violet glow and says nothing.
“I’ll start,” ALCOR says. “Lyra, what do you think is happening with you and Serpint?”
I huff out an annoyed sigh. “We’re… attracted to each other.” Serpint smiles. Faintly, but it’s a good start. “I like him.” He smiles bigger. “And… the things that happen to me when we’re intimate are… surprising.”