[LEGACY VERSION] The Enemy of Time (Book 2 - The Kaireyeh Chronicles)

Chapter 16 - Damon

The name hung in the air. The Countess became like a statue, her dark eyes locked with Damon's. Then, she slowly took in the rest of him. A blush heated his cheeks, but he didn't look away.

"The Crest," she rasped. "Show me the Crest!"

Damon clasped his arm and twisted his shoulder toward her as the lines of the Caelian Crest etched across the back of his hand. The Countess' guards shifted, hands on rifles or holstered pistols. Around him, the Resistance members tensed. Damon's instincts screamed at him to flee, but Elise had said the Countess would need proof.

The Countess stepped forward as if moving through water. She leaned toward his hand, and this close, he could smell her musky perfume.

"You're not encrypted?" she asked.

"No."

Her mask broke to flicker anger, and maybe something like fear, before she regained control. The Countess' lips stretched and she looked around her, as if just noticing they weren't alone. "May I speak with you in private?"

Damon stiffened and shot a glance at Luc. "My guard. He comes with me."

The Countess followed Damon's gaze, then nodded across the cargo bay to a glass window. Behind it was what looked like a control room. "Your guard may come inside, but will maintain his distance."

Luc stepped back beside Damon, tense and alert. Elise pressed her mouth tight and shot Damon a glare that didn't need words: don't you dare mess this up. Milla crossed her arms, her hand dangerously close to her halo trigger. She gave Damon the barest nod.

Damon closed his eyes. He was Kynaston. He was Kynaston.

He followed the Countess' quick steps to the control room. She signaled to one of her own guards who followed them in--the woman took up position beside the hatch and glared at Luc until he did the same.

The room was long and narrow, well-worn consoles lining either side. There was a faint smell of solder in the air, and stale coffee. The Countess pressed a console key, and the window frosted. She continued to the far end of the room where she spun out a worn-looking chair and motioned for Damon to do the same.

As he sat, Damon glanced toward the hatch--Luc's right hand rested lightly on his holstered pulse pistol. But the fingers were closed. He still held the bead of his halo.

The Countess regarded Damon, and he shifted. Should he wait for her to speak? Should he bring up why they were here at the station? Everything was off of Elise's script now.

"Are you truly Landon and Coreen's son?" the Countess demanded.

"Yes."

"Is Landon alive?"

"No."

"And Coreen?"

Damon shook his head. "No."

He felt himself shrinking back. Was this an interrogation?

"Who is your bodyguard, who carries an unsheathed halo?"

"What, Luc?"

Luc stared past them with a blank guard's stare. Luc was playing his part, Damon had to play his.

He swallowed, focusing on the softness of his clothes and the cool air over his bare neck and cropped hair. He wasn't who he had been. And the Countess?

"Who are you?" Damon demanded.

The Countess waved a hand and stood as if she wanted to pace, but only took a step before she stopped. Her mask slipped again, betraying...what? She looked like she was at war with herself.