Page 12 of Needed in the Night
The creature settled into a dark nook in the ceiling right above Isla. Her gaze flicked up, and a fleeting smile crossed her face before she returned her attention to the stage and the audience around it.
My unease turned to amazement and curiosity. Isla had a shadowbat companion? How many more secrets and wonders did my mate contain?
Nubo, meanwhile, was quite oblivious to my turmoil and not done making threats.
“You layone fingeron her,” he hissed, drawing my attention away from Isla and her mysterious shadow and back to him. “Or say something to her I do not like, you are a dead man, and she will join you in the incinerator one minute later. Am I clear?”
Rage and fear for Isla turned me cold. A thousand scenarios flashed through my mind, from removing Nubo’s head from his body to feigning indifference about Isla and everything in between. Indifference he would not believe because I had already given myself away—at least that I found her appealing, not that I had recognized her as my true mate. So that was not an option.
Kill him? No, I could not. Nubo had many connections in the city. He was wealthy and powerful. Even if Isla wanted to flee with me, we would not get far.
And more importantly, my body, hearts, and soul had recognized her as my true mate, but Isla knew nothing about me but my first name and that seeing her had left me speechless. She would have no reason to trust me, much less run from a crime lord or his cronies with me. The very thought was ludicrous.
To protect Isla, I had only one choice: convince Nubo I had no feelings for her beyond simple initial physical attraction and bide my time.
I forced my shoulders to slump as though he had cowed me. “You are clear,” I said, and activated the controls for the stage.
The lights came on, and suddenly Isla was surrounded by bright colors, like a flower in a garden. The sensor detected someone on the stage and bathed her in a spotlight that made her hair glow. Even her plain jumpsuit shimmered. My knees turned watery. I leaned against the bar to steady myself.
Evidently believing he had put me back in my place, Nubo slapped the bar top with his webbed hand. “Good.” He put his back to me to face the stage. “Whenever you are ready,” he called.
Isla raised her hand to acknowledge him, then used the device in her hand to play music. I recognized the melody: a Fylorian ballad about a woman longing for her lover who was away at war.
Before her mouth opened, I had the ridiculous thought that if Isladidsound terrible, she might yet escape Nubo’s attentions. Even as that vain hope crossed my mind, I knew her voice would be as beautiful as she was, and not just to my ears.
“My love, I am waiting here at home for you,” Isla sang. Her voice was truly lovely—pure and sweet, and a little husky on the low notes. I found myself caught between utter despair and joy like I had never known.
Gods, she was perfect.
I could not curse that Isla had come into Zaa’ga today in response to Nubo’s notice, but I cursed everything about Nubo, from his spiny hairs to his flat feet. Most of all I cursed his power to follow through on every one of his threats.
I stirred the very complex and very expensive cocktail I had just spent the past several minutes painstakingly making, poured it into a cup, and downed it in a single gulp without tasting it. It could have been seawater for all I cared. The burn of the liquor did, however, cut through my despair and enable me to think more clearly.
Isla and I would be colleagues. We could get to know each other as friends. I yearned to know everything about her and to share myself with her. And someday, if and when I earned her trust and we found a way to escape Nubo’s reach, I would tell her the truth.
Hopefully that day would come soon. Until then, I would ache for her with every breath and every beat of my hearts.
CHAPTER 4
MIKAS
Three MonthsLater
Five nights a week,Zaa’ga was packed with tourists and locals who came to hear Isla sing.
Nubo’s gamble on choosing a live singer over replacing the bar’s holos had paid off handsomely. And even on a planet populated by genetically engineered people who usually attracted the most attention from offworld visitors, ahumansinger drew crowds. Thirsty crowds. Despite assistance from the bar’s drink kiosks and service ’bots, I could barely keep up with orders some nights. My tips had never been more generous and my savings had swelled.
And yet my hearts felt as hollow as the great caverns north of the city and as abyssal as the deepest ocean because my love and devotion remained unspoken.
Tonight, Isla took the stage at 2100 hours in a dark red gown that clung to her curves while still covering her arms and back.The dress’s high front slit bared one leg almost to her hip whenever she moved, and its deep-V neckline enticed me with visions of resting my head on the tantalizing softness of her breasts.
Her gaze swept over the bar’s patrons, then met mine. Her smile was wonderfully warm, and she gave me a tiny wave. I let my lips turn up at the corners—the closest to returning her smile I could do without risking Nubo’s ire.
When her attention returned to the crowd, I smoothed my features and grabbed three tankards to fill for a trio of Hardanian brothers who had already consumed a remarkable amount of ale but seemed only mildly inebriated. Regardless of their level of drunkenness, I did not like the way they murmured to each other with their gazes fixed on Isla. They were far from the only patrons watching her closely, but my spines prickled in warning. These males could be trouble.
When the opening notes of Isla’s first song poured from the sound system, the bar fell quiet. She smiled and bowed to acknowledge her audience. My chest ached. Gods above, how could she grow more beautiful by the day?
“My love, hold me close and never let go…” Isla sang in Tivoran. The words were so low-pitched they were nearly a purr, but her amplified voice filled the room completely.
