Page 143 of Border Control

Her sadness tinges the mind-sync blue, but there are no spikes this time at least. I guard against them, wrapping my mental and physical arms around her.

I’m closer to hear clearly: “When Morgan put his allegations against you, he made it public in the firm. He wanted to humiliate you, probably.”

“Sounds like him.” Law-rah’s voice tightens. I kiss her neck to distract her, to center her during this time of distress.

“But it backfired big time. Loads of other women in the company came forward. Some said they wished they'd punched him in the face, too. Morgan's under investigation by HR now. Adding what you have on him and Accu-care would put a few nails in his coffin.”

Law-rah glances at me, and I nod.‘As soon as we get back, I will instruct Nevare to comb his mind.’

She grins at me.

“But enough about him,” her wave brother says. “I’m not calling to get you back into their firm. I’m talking about you.”

A glimmer of gold sparks in her mind. “What do you mean?”

“Start your own firm. I’m an independent contractor as a barrister. You can be, too.”

At first, her mind fills with a mist, dismissing the foggy idea.

I tap her arm and she glances at me. I send her the image of herself, tall, strong, beautiful in the golden light, defending me with every parry of her words.

The shift in her mindscape is swift and thrilling, like stormclouds breaking open to let the sun through. Images of the older man, smiling. The faces of people she fights for. Her ambition stirs, radiant. Her spine straightens.

“Law-rah?” I murmur.

She looks at me, and something about the way her mouth curls sends heat through my chest. “I’d need a business name, and a decent espresso machine,” she says into the comm, eyes still locked on mine. “But I have the best place ever for an office.”

One week later

“And that’s how we changed a whole planet’s legal system,” Law-rah finishes for her friends. “Oh, and got married and started a legal firm.”

They’re open mouthed, their dough disks untouched on the plates in front of them. My shipmates stand behind the females, equally slack jawed.

Law-rah threads her fingers through mine. Underneath, she trembles, but I shore her up, whispering reassurances across our bond.

El-len recovers first. “And, uh, the mind-sync?”

“Fixed,” my mate says happily, giving me a wink. “Turns out I needed more… practice.”

Indeed. I wink back. Practice where I promise pleasure or withhold it until she accomplishes the exercise. She seems to like it either way, and despite sometimes ‘failing’ on purpose, her control is fine-tuned now.

“We have our own mating games now?” Ilia asks with a rumble.

“Indeed, but I doubt the exiles are welcome back on Oloria,” I caution him. Besides, Ilia and Gara are more than content with their mates; I can feel the soft glow emanating from their auras, one blue, one green.

I wonder if I have the same.

‘Sure do,’Arik says, mentally rolling his eyes.‘A love-sick lilac.’

I gently shove his shoulder. Law-rah’s skills help protect our privacy while our sessions help me maintain my mental balance to assist us all, but Arik and Nevare can still hear us when we’re being especially loud together.

So far, balancing Nevare with my love for Law-rah hasn’t posed any challenges. In fact, it’s done the opposite, because my happiness provides a sturdy foundation to support Nevare and Arik. ‘Keeping your cup full,’ as Law-rah says.

“So, that’s it?” Arra-bellah asks, her fingers picking at her pizza crust, her plate and then gliding over Gara’s scales. “The clones will have better lives now?”

“We can hope,” Law-rah says, but she's as unsure as I am.

Ilia beckons me to one side of El-len's tent. She's set it up for movie night again, golden lights twinkling along the metal struts holding it up and rows of straw bales serving as seats. The females cluster together, their excited chatter filling the space with warmth.