Page 32 of Needed in the Night
Yes, Fortusia was my homeworld, but Isla was my home. If she accepted me as her mate, I would be her home as well, though human physiology was not the same as mine. I would provide her with deep contentment and security and love. It was not a pink waterfall or a towering oth’canto tree, but it would be good.
Finally, the time forced me to finish getting ready for work and leave my apartment. Mindful of Nubo’s surveillance and the looming threat neither Brae nor I could identify yet, I forced myself to keep my expression neutral and not reveal either the effervescent feeling in my hearts or that I was keeping a much closer watch on my surroundings than usual.
Passing Isla’s door without pausing required focus too. I pictured her on the other side of the wall, reading or listening to music, or resting, or maybe practicing ahead of her shift later tonight.
Finish her perfume, I willed Madame Ycari.Summon us to your shop so I can open my hearts.
When Isla had first mentioned buying perfume, I had almost let slip that I wished she would not change her scent because it was everything to me. Even then I knew it was a selfish thought and I was ashamed of it. But now I would have bathed her in any perfume she wanted and loved it, especially if it meant a return to the privacy of Ycari’s sampling room.
Envisioning being alone with Isla once again lightened myheartsandmy steps despite the prickling of my spines and never-ending uneasiness in my gut. I scarcely noticed my long walk down from the fourth residential floor to ground level and the hallway that led to Zaa’ga.
I came around the last corner to the short corridor that went past Nubo’s office and ended in the door that led to the bar, eager to start my shift and earn more tips that would go toward my future with Isla.
A tall, leather-clad figure leaned against the wall opposite Nubo’s office, flipping a dagger in her hand. I paused mid-step. What the hells was she doing in the private area behind the bar?
“Afternoon, Commandant.” As I approached, Kona caught the handle of her knife one last time and slid it into the sheath on her thigh. “Right on time for work. Nice and punctual. Our boss will be glad to see it.”
Our boss.
A dozen emotions hit me at once—chief among them, fury that made my spines bristle, skin heat, and claws emerge.
Damn Kona to all the hells. Did Nubo recruit her after seeing her in the bar? Had she sought employment as part of her grudge against me? Or some combination of the two?
With effort, I squashed my rage and continued toward the bar without stopping or replying.
“Good news, Commandant.” She chuckled as I passed. “It’ll be my job to make sure the singer stays safe whenever she leaves the premises.” She grinned so widely that the scar on her neck rippled.
Gods, I could have finished the job someone had started and ripped her head off her shoulders. And then done the same with Nubo’s.
Was Kona the danger Brae and I had sensed, or was her assignment only part of some bigger threat? Had Nubo told her to confront me today and imply Isla was now in imminentdanger from a cold-blooded mercenary and killer appointed to haunt my mate’s every step?
“Aren’t you going to congratulate me on my new job?” Kona taunted, her voice following me. “Come on, Commandant. We’re colleagues now. Just a couple of former soldiers trying to make anhonest living?—”
I moved so fast, I had no memory of turning around or closing the distance between us. Between one heartsbeat and the next, I went from walking toward the bar’s closed door to pinning Kona against the wall with my forearm across her windpipe.
With a hiss, she drew her dagger. I caught her wrist and slammed it against the wall. A bone snapped, and her knife clattered on the floor.
Her other hand gripped my arm and tried to pull it off her throat. When that did not work, she sank her talons into my forearm. Blood streamed from the wounds, but I barely felt the pain.
Fear flashed in her eyes. She hid it quickly and dug her talons in deeper, but I had seen it, and she knew I had. Her fury seemed to double because I had frightened her.
I could not kill her. I could not demand she leave Isla alone. I could not tip my hand that I loved Isla, or that I planned to escape with her—tonight, if possible. Only the fact my happiness and therefore my life depended on these things stilled my hand.
“Stay away from me, Kona,” I said, my voice cold despite the rage that filled me and made even my eyes feel hot. “If you have chosen to work for Nubo, so be it. You do your job and I will do mine. Do not speak to me, or sit at my bar, or come near my door. I will not warn you again. Do you understand?”
“I live on your floor now,” she wheezed, her eyes blazing. “I will have to pass your?—”
“You heard what I said.” I twisted her broken wrist just enough to make her squirm. “Do you understand?”
The more rational part of my brain wondered why Nubo had not emerged from his office to intervene. Surely he was watching. The fact he chose not to interfere told me he probably hoped for a confrontation. Maybe he wondered what would be said in the heat of the moment and who would prevail.
“You’re a dead man,” Kona hissed. She spat in my face. “Your singer too.”
Her gaze flicked to Nubo’s door. She was goading me, trying to force me to fight, to get me to reveal what was in my hearts. Had he ordered her to say and do these things?
“We both answer to Nubo,” I said, because he was listening. “So you will not do anything to me or the singer unless he tells you so, will you? No more than you would have killed someone without orders from your squad leader or yourcommandant.”
Kona’s mouth compressed into a thin line. Her chipped incisor drew a bead of blood from her lip. She had chosen to work for Nubo to get further under my skin, but to do so she had traded one ruthless boss and subservient life for another. She would have gutted me here and now if she could have for reminding her of that fact.
