Page 4 of Zylus

I must have lost my mind somewhere between the “whooooo, whooooo” and the “get out of my house,” because I’m seriously trying to convince myself it would be a bad idea to ask this guy how much it might cost to renovate the inn.

I’m having such a loud argument in my head, I’m surprised he can’t hear it. Finally, I justify my decision by making it all about safety. Instead of just hopping in the truck with a possible serial murderer, I’ll spend a bit more time with him as I show him the inn and get a ballpark figure of what it would cost to fix up. Not that I’m going to renovate, mind you, just to get a better feel for his character before I hover to town with him.

Who am I kidding? It also gives me time to be within staring distance of a male whose profile is only surpassed by his full-frontal gorgeousness.

We exchange names between the hover and the front door, then Zylus and I begin the quick tour. He does little more than glance into each room and make perfunctory comments along with little tongue clucks when we see something that has aged badly—which is everything.

“So? How much do you think it would take to fix her up?” I ask as we climb into his hover.

“It depends on what materials and finishes you choose,” he hedges.

“Just an estimate so I can see how much I’d need to borrow.” Did I really say that? As if I’m planning on waltzing into a bank and asking for a loan. Before I question my sanity, I add, “Be sure to include remodeling the gazebo. The thing is practically in ruins, but it could be so lovely when it’s returned to its original glory. That was the part of the ad that lured me into raiding my savings to enter the drawing.”

“As we went from one problem to another on the tour, I thought you were giving up on the project.” He spears me with a questioning gaze, one eyebrow hiked high on his forehead.

I shrug. “Well, as long as you inspected it, I’d be interested to know how much it would take to fix her up.”

He tosses his head from side to side as he gives it long moments of thought. “It’s a wild estimate, not to be taken seriously,” he hedges. “I’d say 250,000 to 300,000 credits. That’s if you don’t go crazy with materials.”

“Wow!”

I’m silent the rest of the ride into Arixxia Fields. What a letdown to go from thinking I’d won the perfect B&B to realizing I’ll need to pump over a quarter of a million credits into it just to make it habitable.

As we drive, I use my now-functioning comm to check into a ticket back to Earth, only to find there’s no way out of town until tomorrow.

A thought has been nagging at the back of my mind since my handsome companion said the words “300,000 credits.” I’m here. I have at least a day until I can leave town. Why don’t I hit up a few banks to see if I qualify for a loan?

The property may be down-at-the-heels, but it’s got to be worthsomethingas collateral, right? Even if it’s just the land itself?

When I ask Zylus to drop me at First Bank of Arixxia Fields, he balks.

“I thought you were giving up on her.”

“Yeah.” I shrug. “But now that you’ve given me a ballpark number for renovation, I might as well see if it’s doable.”

Chapter Four

Zylus

Why did I give her an estimate? Well, first of all, how was I to know she’d even entertain the idea of renovation? Every room we looked into pulled a moan or “oh my” from her. And second, I was having fun with her. She’s a great conversationalist and it would have been rude to stonewall her when she asked a direct question.

The tour gave me plenty of time to get a good look at my pretty companion. The human is… beautiful. Her long, brown hair is pulled into a tail at her nape and her face is full and round, with a pointed little chin. I doubt she’d enjoy hearing it, but her lips pursed in consternation make her look adorable.

Although I didn’t really expect to see anyone at this time of day, I drove by the inn in the hopes of getting a look at its new owner.

For some reason, I always thought it would be a wealthy, chittering, insectoid Frain or a bulbous Mulmout who left a trail of slime behind him wherever he slithered. Not a beautiful, young female who came to collect her prize.

My mind flips through many things that led to this point, starting decades ago when I used to visit my grandparents in this house, stilllivable though it had faded from its original glory. Even back then, I imagined fixing it up, modernizing, beautifying, and opening it as an inn.

After my grandparents passed, I made it clear I’d like to make 72 Zo’rel Place into the inn of my dreams, but my parents always reminded me of the Astralite law that all goods pass to the oldest son.

Although they were kind but firm in their refusal, somehow I always thought they would change their minds and leave it to me in their wills. This is planet Hallion, after all. The old Astralite customs are no longer binding. Sadly, they stayed firm in their conviction to follow the old ways, leaving everything to Nivar. When he married and gave them a clutch of grandchildren, I knew they would never change their minds.

They couldn’t have been more misguided, though. Just as I’d feared, after my parents’ shocking passing in a hover crash when they were still in their prime, the house was left to my older brother.

The first thing Nivar did after their death was divorce his wife and become an absent father. As that was proceeding, he stopped all maintenance and put the property up for sale. I scrounged for the credits to buy it, but couldn’t swing his ridiculous asking price.

Although I’d been socking credits away for renovations since my first after-school job, I didn’t have enough to both buy the property and fix it up. Not even if I sold my tiny starter home.

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