inner machinery of the lift, she glanced up at Stefan. âCanât you wear a bell or something?â
âNo.â
Of course he didnât have a sense of humor. Psy never did. She still couldnât get her mind around the fact that two powerful cardinal Psy, including a gifted foreseer, had recently defected into a changeling pack. How could that possibly work? Changelings were as primal as Psy were cerebral. Like Stefan with his remote gaze and cool words.
âThe tube is busted,â she told him. âI missed the last equipment request, so weâll have to wait till next month.â
âIs it urgent?â
She considered it, aware Stefan was a teleport-capable Tk. He could bring in emergency equipment in the space of mere minutes if not seconds, his mind reaching across vast distances in a way she could barely comprehend, but the unspoken rule was that the rest of the station personnel didnât ask him for anything that wasnât critical. Everyone knew that if Alaris sprang a fatal pressure leak, theyâd need every last ounce of Stefanâs abilities to get them to the surface.
âThe other lift is still functional,â she said, hooking her spanner into her tool belt and tapping in the code that meant the computer would bypass this lift until she recorded it as being back online. âWe can survive a month.â
He nodded, his dark brown hair military short. Since he wasnâtpart of the Psy raceâs armed forces, she thought it was because he had curls; Psy hated anything that was out of control. When he continued to loom over her, she rubbed her hands on her thighs and stood up. That didnât exactly even things out since he was so much taller, but it made her feel better.
He reached out and gripped a lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail. âGrease.â
Rolling her eyes, she pulled it out of his grasp. âWas there anything else you wanted?â
âIt appears I made a mistake last month in telling you no letter or package would come.â
Pain in her heart, her throat. âNo, I needed to hear that.â
âHowever, instead of having you snap at everyone for two days a month, youâre now so quiet that people are becoming concerned.â
Tazia remembered how Andres had been poking at her this morning, trying to make her smile with those silly jokes of his. But he was her friend. Stefan was nothing. âIâm not Psy,â she said point-blank. âI canât ignore hurt or forget that my family hates me.â
He didnât flinch. âYou knew that before. What changed?â
âYou took away my hope.â
There was a small silence that seemed to reverberate with a thousand unspoken things. For a single instant captured in time, she thought she saw a fracture in his icy composure, a hint of something unexpected in those eyes sheâd always thought were beautiful despite their coldness.
Then a tool fell off Taziaâs belt and she bent to grab it off the floor. By the time she rose, Stefan was gone. Just as well, she thought, though there was a strange hollowness in her stomach. She wasnât some bug under a microscope for him to study. She was a flesh-and-blood human being with hopes and dreams and emotions. Maybe those emotions made her heart heavy with sorrow and her soul hurt,but she would never choose to erase them in the way of Stefanâs people.
What use was it to have such power if you saw no beauty in a childâs smile or in the seaâs turbulent moods? If you didnât understand friendship or laughter? No, sheâd rather feel, even if it hurt so much she could hardly breathe through it at times.
Chapter 2
Tazia was on her way back to her room three days later, her shift complete, when she decided to take a different corridor. Andresâs room was that way and heâd told her to go in and grab a reader on which heâd loaded the latest chapter in a continuing