Stars Dancing [Dreams-To-Lovers Romance]

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PEYDRAN

I continued telling Ren the story of me and Ryst and everything that had happened. My accident. The surgery. Ren's humming changed to something comforting, like a lullaby. I spoke of waking up in the hospital and Ryst saving me from damnation by a hair's breadth by filling my being and my mind with her love. With her self. With that essential part of her that is all Ryst and all loving kindness.

The story kept going on. To darker things. Of husbands who were murderers. And Ren's hum shifted again, to something menacing that matched the coldness in his face. I nodded and said, "It's time for you to watch the animation Ryst will never see. It's called The Avenging Augment."

My pad played an animated me in a hospital bed looking at an arm covered in wrapped bandages, but with a metal hand poking out at the end. Animated me daydreamed of being in the dojo and training and wielding a knife and plotting murder. When animated me got up to walk the hospital halls, he planned death. When animated me did physical therapy, he was grasping a fork with the augment trying to practice eating, but he daydreamed of grasping an axe and swinging it. Animated me turned into an assassin dressed in all black, sneaking across rooftops and being the unseen warrior of dread.

Ren laughed at first. It was a really funny video and only about a minute long. But after a little bit of laughing, Ren looked at me with a probing glance. He saw I was softly smiling at him, but not laughing. And with his head slightly cocked to one side he said, "Did they know it wasn't a joke?"

An understanding passed between us, and I knew that he would join me in my quest to monitor Darwin Coolidge. But I knew something else. A truth I hadn't seen before. That I had thought I'd had two reasons to work hard in that hospital. To face every horror. To do every task. To train and hone myself into a blade.

To be honest on galaxy-wide video chats about the difficulties of recovery. To share my story. To heal. To read Ryst's erotica book and keep going and going. My reasons had been Darwin and Her Ahtah.

But truly, it hadn't ever been about them, had it? It had always been about me. And my fears. And my longing. And it had always been about this. Getting to this point. Where I could go out on a date and bring a man home. And be free. Free from everything that could've held me back.

All of that work and determination had never been about Ryst. It had always been about me. And Ren. And this.

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So I told him the truth about the animation and my quest to protect Ryst. About the two reasons. About Punished by Peydran. And Her Atah.

I explained Ryst's Talent around the dining table with Jerun and the Morelands. About the mystical force of nature called erotica causing an unusual reaction in my body, and about my entire being feeling the anguish of loneliness at that table.

"Wait," Ren interrupted. "So, you could mind merge with a group of people, and then Ryst and you, well, if you had actually wanted to… is telepathic sex possible? Could that work?"

"I don't know, Ren. It certainly wasn't something I actually wanted with her, but… I need to keep telling you the story because we're getting to a book she wrote. And, I've never asked her about the details of what sex is like with her Talent, but you can read the book."

Then I told him about Within and Without, about what it had done to me, and how I had broken and mended. And how I probably wouldn't have been able to end our first date the way I had if I hadn't read that book— just last week! It was just yesterday that I'd convinced Ryst about Sibsil Creed.

And with Ren by my side, the stream site of Within and Without went live.

Ren hummed as I published the erotic book across the 9 Galaxies. More insistently. Stronger. Ren wanted to wait to read the book another day. He said, "Tell me all about Her Ahtah, Pey'o; you skipped that part."

So I told him about Ryst's dreams, and the man who was in them. About the clues: the maples and ginkgos, the brown hand. Ren didn't snicker. He didn't miss a beat. He just kept humming and focusing on every word out of my mouth. About "Melthena" which had actually been "Methela," or so we thought, and about 15 million black men on a sphere called Sturm.

Then Ren's hum changed to a rhythm. "Methela, Methela" he repeated. And he sounded eerily like Ryst had all those months ago when I'd played the word "Methela" from my pad, and she'd told me how to change the vocalizations to match what she felt inside upon hearing the word.

Ren's humming stopped. He grabbed my hands and declared, "We are finding him. Now." And he jumped up, still holding my hands and half dragged me out the door and up the path to Ryst's casita. He'd never been there, but he knew the way somehow. We got to the door, and I realized Ren was humming, insistently, and I knocked to that exact rhythm on Ryst's front door.

When she opened the door, she looked tired, and I realized it was several hours past dark. But her face widened into a smile, and she pulled Ren into a hug. Ryst looked relieved as she led him into the casita. Ren started telling her that he wasn't like other people, and I glanced around the casita, a little worried at the tired look in Ryst's eyes.

But it didn't look like she was in a relapse. She was dressed, and there weren't things strewn about or dishes in the sink. No, it was the opposite. The place was as spotless as though no one actually lived there. My eyes narrowed.

As I was about to come to a decision, Ryst said to Ren, "Ren, don't you see? You don't just compose music, you are music. You are a song come to life in human form!"

And it was a declaration of truth. A fact of the Cosmos. I had two magical people in my life. One in my arms and one in my memories so deep she'd never be out of me. And both of them in my heart, eternally.

My decision was made. I had a magical man, and my best friend was not going to be alone anymore. Ren was humming a beat that was a march, and I matched it with a declaration of battle: "It's time."

Ren took Ryst's hands in his, "We're going to find him, Ryst. We're finding him now." But it wasn't words, it was a rhythm, and they were both bouncing with it.

I wrapped my arms around them both and pulled them down onto the shiki cushion. I moved Ren between my legs, his back to me and wrapped an arm around his waist. Ren sang, but it wasn't a melody; it was a drumbeat.

"Methela. Methela. Methela."

"Methela," Ryst echoed as if she knew the song. A moan escaped her lips, but it wasn't pain. It was something more like a longing fulfilled. She collapsed forward, and Ren caught her and held her against his abdomen, both of their eyes closed.

That rhythm, that rhythm still beating out of my love.

"MEHTH-eh-la. MEHTH-eh-la. MEHTH-eh-la."