Page 6 of Stalker

CHAPTER 3

BRUTICUS

The neon signs of the upper levels paint Maryse's hair in shifting colors. My fingers twitch at my side, wanting to touch those copper strands. The hunger for Daniels' blood dims with each smile she throws my way.

"Keep up, slowpoke."

Her delicate hand wraps around mine. The contact sends electricity through my spine, and I nearly stumble. Her skin is so soft against my calloused palm.

"Half-breed scum," a passerby mutters.

The slur barely registers. All I can focus on is how her thumb traces circles on my wrist.

"This way." She tugs me through the crowd. "Best noodles in the sector."

The wealthy citizens of Alpha Centauri part around us like water around a stone. Their designer clothes and augmented features mark them as elite as surely as my bone spurs mark me as other. Their whispers follow us down the promenade.

"What's she doing with one of them?"

"Disgusting."

"Security should keep their kind below."

Maryse's grip tightens.

"Almost there."

The warmth of her touch spreads up my arm, settles in my chest. For the first time in years, the rage that's driven me across the stars feels distant, muted. Her presence fills spaces I didn't know were empty.

She glances back, green eyes sparkling. My breath catches. The vengeance that's consumed me seems to matter less with each passing moment.

Marble columns stretch toward a domed ceiling painted with constellations I've never seen. The floors gleam like mirrors, reflecting the crystal chandeliers above. My boots leave marks on the polished surface.

"Miss Daniels, welcome back." The hostess bows, her augmented eyes scanning over me. "Your usual table?"

"Please."

Daniels? No, it has to be a coincidence…Daniels is a very common human surname. I sifted through thousands of them in order to come this far.

The other patrons stare as we pass. A Reaper in Valabar's must be quite the sight. Their silverware clinks against plates that cost more than I make in a month.

Our table overlooks the spaceport through floor-to-ceiling windows. Ships drift past like metallic fish in an endless sea of stars. A luxury cruiser catches the station's artificial sunlight, its hull blazing gold.

"The view is incredible." The words slip out before I can stop them.

"Wait until sunset. The light hits the ships just right."

A waiter approaches, his chrome-plated hands holding menus that shimmer with holographic text.

"Would you mind if I ordered for us both? The chef here makes the most amazing fusion dishes."

Her smile melts any objection I might have had. I nod, not trusting my voice.

"We'll have the Sea's Bounty." She hands back the menus. "And a bottle of the '47 Centaurian Red."

"Excellent choice, Miss Daniels."

The waiter disappears, leaving me alone with Maryse and that devastating smile. My mother's voice echoes in my head, warning me about beautiful things that shine too bright. But for now, I let myself be blinded.

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