Page 11

I find her assigned room and spin around outside her door, one hand holding my other wrist, ready but not looking for trouble.

As her door opens, I notice a fight at the other end between a Talhuskin and a blue-violet, loose-skinned Serrin with slender fins all over its body. I motion for her to stay, wait for the Abr officers to get them under control, and then wave her out.

I cannot speak except for a whisper, or she might unmask me. I’m not sure throwing another wrench in her life right now is best.

When I nod toward the lunch hall, she hesitantly leads.

“What do I call you?” Zariah asks.

I shake my head. You don’t need to know.

I stay close as we approach the doors of the quiet lunch hall. She orders at the counter while I stand off to the side, watching the few other racers quietly talking in the booths.

“Don’t you speak?” she asks me as she sits to eat.

I post up behind her, leaning against the wall, eyes on everything but her. She is my most precious client. It is depressing to watch her eat alone and to not be able to sit with her as if we are friends.

We are friends, just can’t be right now.

Right?

But I didn’t protect her during the race, not like I wanted to. It doesn’t matter that I wasn’t allowed to. Shame still cools my core.

I don’t deserve her.

A door from the alien wing opens abruptly. The Ginarigon male who initially tackled Zariah struts in, his rough brown armor clicking together over his chest and legs. He scans the room, finds her, and storms toward us.

She makes a noise that tells me she’s spotted him.

I step out into his path with one thought. Protect Zariah at all costs.

The prospect of life without her in it is an emptiness I don’t want to face.

He tries to swipe me aside. But I block his arm, grab it, spin him around, and bind him in a headlock. I lean close enough that I know he’ll hear me clearly in his pointy ear. “She’s not interested in your kind. Go find a pink.”

Then I shove him away from her with a boot between his shoulder blades.

“You can’t do this!” he retorts.

“You tried to hurt her more than once. My job is to protect her until she chooses a mate and the bond is agreed upon,” I whisper while others watch.

He saunters out. I return to my post, avoiding eye contact with Zariah. I can feel her looking at me, but I keep my head on a swivel away from her. I’m not sure I can hold my cover if I meet her eyes. Her scent is distracting enough.

“Just like that?” she asks.

“Yes,” I rasp so she can’t pick up my vocal tones.

Zariah finishes eating. It takes her longer than I expect. I want to ask what’s wrong and if there’s anything I can do. But as an experienced guard, I know that is not my place. I am here to stop external threats. Nothing more, nothing less.

When she is done, she busses in her tray and turns to me. “Can I go outside?”

I nod.

She studies me for a moment, then walks out of the lunch hall, up the stairs, and onto a balcony. I stay one pace behind her and off to the side.

A gentle breeze from the artificial environment curls through her hair, tousling dark tendrils in a way that I find agonizingly beautiful. And yet, I take my place behind her.

“Not fair,” a green-banded blonde remarks. “Why does she get a guard?”

“Ginarigon harassment,” I say quietly.

“Oh.” The woman walks to another corner and meets up with some friends and their new alien male interests.

“Where are you from?” Zariah asks as if she hasn’t heard our conversation. “On Earth?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me. I’ve never been there. I was just wondering if you had recommendations.”

“I do not.” I’m unsure how long I can keep up the charade if she pesters me with questions. “Please ignore me, Miss Landing.”

“Kind of hard when you follow me everywhere.”

“That’s my job.”

She turns to look out across the race grounds and braces her arms on the broad, flat cement railing, looking depressed.

I ache to feel her against me, to comfort her, hug her, and tell her she isn’t alone. But now we’re on the holofeed. Everyone knows who she is and that something is more than human about me. I have to show restraint, or I might lose my ability to protect her.

“I’ve never been to the surface of Earth, despite being human,” she says. “Um, is that normal here?”

I walk closer and look where she points toward the sky, thinking she’s seeing a constellation.

A ribbon of red and orange light bleeds across the solar system like a tear in flesh. “Solar storm.” It was on the news, but this seems early.

She frowns and studies it intently. “My father told me to avoid them at all costs. They can leave a ship dead in the void, turning it into a casket.”

I hang my head when she looks at me, hoping she doesn’t see my face. A few other racers walk out onto the balcony, giving me a solid distraction.

“I think I’ve had enough for one night.”

I motion for her to lead and stay one pace back and to her right as I follow her to her room.

She scans her wristband and unlocks her door.

I’m not ready to say goodnight. “Can I bring you anything, Miss?”

“I’m sorry? I thought you were just a guard.”

I’ve broken the seal on my feelings without thinking and offered what I shouldn’t have. But I can’t help it. “You had a rough race. The alien males did not respect you as you deserved. I just wanted to offer in case you might need or want something.”

She leans against the door frame and smiles at me. I can’t help but steal a glance at her before jerking my eyes away to scan the hallways.

“You’re the one that tackled the big Ginarigon earlier.”

I nod.

“Quite the talent.”

“It’s my job.”

“You’ve said that. What do you think I need?”

I rack my memories of the human holoshows for an answer. “Most—” Don’t say human female — “Women like comfort foods like ice cream or chocolate cake.”

She laughs softly at this. “Okay. Whatever they’ve got, I guess.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I rasp as I bow. “Please close and lock your door. I will return in a moment. Please confirm a guest visually or with the AI before opening your door.

“Yeah.”

I wait for her door to shut and the sound of the latches to confirm she’s safe. Then, I head toward the lunch hall. Music thumps through the open double doors of the mingle celebration from the other end. A few males talk just inside the lunch hall. They give me dirty looks when I survey them.

I walk up to the counter and display my guard’s pass on my wristband to the woman taking orders. “Whatever you’ve got for dessert. My client could’ve had a much better day. She needs a pick-me-up.”

She looks at me, points at me like she’s remembering something, then nods. “Okay. I gotcha. Just wait one minute.”

She walks into the kitchen, speaks with the workers, and returns moments later with a large tray filled with plates. She lifts each pearlescent cover, tells me what it is, then covers it again.

I covertly sniff the air for any scents I don’t approve of but find nothing. I collect the tray, thank her, and walk back toward her room.

I hope this helps. The tray in my hands has everything from truffles to cheesecake, scoops of ice cream, and more types of cookies than I recognize. In the middle is a carafe of hot water with a mug and an assortment of powdered drink options.

It feels good, invigorating, to be bringing Zariah things to make her feel better. But as I near her room, not far from the mingle celebration, I get called out. The Ginarigons, three of them, walk toward me, meeting me halfway to her door.

“You caused a lot of trouble today, interfering in the race.” The largest of the three says, the one I recently kicked out of the lunch hall. “How are we supposed to find mates if you get in the way?”

I walk around them at a distance, sensing a pending fight. “We can finish this in a minute. Let me care for the woman you terrified today.”

The big one snickers to the others. “Guess she is weaker than we thought. This should be easy.”

I grit my teeth as I continue to her door. Stopping in the hallway so she can clearly see it’s me outside, I wait, keeping my periphery trained on the three Ginarigons.

A lock clunks and the door eases open.

I walk toward her, easing the tray into her hands.

“Wow. Heavy.” She laughs. “Won’t you come in and help me eat all of this?”

I shake my head and intentionally rasp my reply. “Guards are not permitted in women’s quarters unless there is an emergency.”

“Aw, alright. Well, thank you,” she says, backing up.

“I will close the door for you. And I will be back in the morning to escort you to your events. You may request me at any time between now and then.”

She thanks me again. I just hope she hasn’t seen the Ginarigons.

When her door is shut, I stalk toward them, studying their subtler movements, looking for signs of weaknesses.

“If you want to talk, we’re not doing it out here where all the cameras are.”

The leader points down a hallway.

“You should be mingling,” I add.

“And you should mind your own business.”

I walk down the corridor that leads to the maintenance rooms of the building, listening to their steps and their breathing for increased quickness.

I hear one approach based on his deep inhale. Wheeling around, I expect a Ginarigon-style attack, a punch to the lower spine while they draw the head backward with another hand. Always take out the legs first.

I use his outstretched arm to my advantage by snatching up his wrist, planting a shoulder in his gut, then using his momentum to fling him over my body and toss him to the ground.

The next Ginarigon, a bit paler orange, bares his teeth, which drip with oily poison. He tackles me, and we tumble to the ground. As the first scrambles to hold me down by an arm, I launch him off with a foot. I use the wall as leverage to right myself and knee the second in the ribs.

Then, the largest picks me up by my vest with help from the second. They hold me against the wall. I grip their arms to steady myself while searching for a weakness I can exploit as the third gets to his feet, staggers over, and bites my neck with zero restraint.

Sickening pangs lance through my neck.

He steps back just enough I can see his face. “Just waiting for the easy kill. No one will miss a human guard.”

The poison invades like hot acid, swirling through my body, weakening my knees. The back of my throat tenses, and serum from my ooligilli gland dumps into my bloodstream. I just need a minute.

They silently check the area and nod toward a door at the end of the hall like they’re planning where to dump my body.

My muscles swell with fresh strength. “Good thing, I’m not.”

The largest one gapes at me.

I grab the closest and head butt him as hard as I can. When he stumbles back, it distracts the other two. Managing to slip an arm free, I brace myself and side-kick the Ginarigon to my right. The biggest tugs me toward him and punches me hard in the face.

My cheek stings and throbs, but I take him down with a low kick to his left knee.

“You’re lucky I’m holding back,” I say as he sinks to all fours, groaning. “I could kill you. I’m not going to because that would cause more trouble at Abr.

“And I know why you’re all after Zariah. She does not have the treasure. Her brother has it. She left that life behind. She does not know where it is, nor does she care. So stop thinking that making her your mate is going to earn you some piece of her father’s treasure. He kept it hidden from her.”

They grumble as they pull themselves together.

I leave them behind for my ship. I have to bandage my face and get some rest to replenish my serum. The poison is still in my system. I cannot heal anything else until it processes out of my bloodstream.

I report to Rosy what happened and send her my biostats, displaying the poison in my blood. I’m not worried about getting in trouble. Three Ginarigons against one of any species is a recipe for death. And they don’t want that reputation. If word of their crime gets out, they’ll have to answer for it after Abr. But their crime is not against a racer. So they get to stay in the race, for now. It’s a Federation relations issue, according to Rosy.

Rosy: I will post two Abr guards outside her room for the night. Get some rest. Call in if you need medical support.

Elix: Thank you.

Aboard my ship, I close the ramp and wake MONA. “I need you to watch Zariah’s room and keep tabs on my vitals.”

“Are you damaged?”

“Poisoned. Ginarigon.”

I strip out of my armor and weapons, lie back on the med table, and connect the nutrient cable to the gland at the back of my neck. I tap on the replenishing cycle and close my eyes.

Feverish dreams of Zariah being shoved around by the Ginarigons fill my shivering darkness. They have bites for mating and bites to kill. I got the latter.

They better not lay another finger on her. I might lose all sense of restraint.