Page 35 of Her Alien Mercenaries
She looked around the place, waiting for a pang of… something. She’d only just moved in here. It was the first place she’d ever actually owned. She should be sad, or nostalgic. Shouldn’t she? Instead, she was glad she hadn’t been here long enough to mess the place up. The paint was still perfect. The counters gleamed. It would make someone else a lovely home.
It only took a minute to retrieve the comm from its hiding place out back. She stood in the sunshine, enjoying the way the heat sank into her back even though the wind was chilly. Summer was almost over. In a matter of weeks, she’d get to experience her first snowfall.
She’d done her part for the colony. Now, it was time for her to live for herself.
With that thought in mind, she started typing. First, her three-digit code, followed by what she hoped was a concise message.
This will be my last report. I have no new intel to relay. I am no longer comfortable with our arrangement and feel the risk of discovery is increasing. I forfeit all agreed upon arrangements. I will destroy this device within twenty-four hours.
She’d never written a resignation letter before. This one felt a little flat, but it would have to do.
A touch of a button and the message was sent. How long would it take to be relayed to her mysterious handler? She had no idea, though it would likely be days. That’s how long most of their communications were delayed. A few days to get there, a few days for a reply. She hoped they were a long way from here. If the distance was great enough, maybe they’d forget about her.
She went back inside, the comm unit still in her hand. She’d get rid of it tomorrow. Before they had time to send another message.
Partway up the stairs, she had a dizzy spell. Probably dehydration. She hadn’t had anything but coffee today, and that was a few hours ago.
By the time she reached the top, her stomach was roiling. Damn it. Was she coming down with something?
“I should have let them bite me last night,” she muttered. Nanotech would kill whatever bug she’d contracted. The timing was terrible. She was supposed to be getting ready to see their home and spend a few days getting to know her mates in and out of the bedroom.
Damn, damn, and triple damn. She didn’t want to be sick.
It wasn’t until her vision went gray that she began to worry, and then, she was on the floor.
15
Zanyr sortedthrough the various fruits and vegetables available at the stand, curious to see what was on offer. Whoever this Sanjin was, he’d managed to grow a number of Vardarian plants in the local soil, and judging by the size of the produce, he’d been very successful at it.
“I need to talk to this male and find out what his secret is. Do you see this?” He held out asazraas big as his palm.
Torren looked and grunted. “Big. I take it that’s unusual?”
“You’re hopeless. Yes, it’s unusual. None of my crops are doing this well. Granted, this is a small plot, so he can give the plants more attention, but still. I’m impressed.”
He was also a tad suspicious. Like everything else in Haven, agriculturists had rules they had to follow. No artificial supplements in the soil, no chemicals, or pesticides. The soil had to stay healthy, and nothing could be allowed to contaminate the land or water.
The only ways he knew to grow produce like this all involved violating the rules. It was more proof that the colony had grown big enough to need more oversight. He’d bring it up at the next meeting.
Torren had a selection of produce set to one side. “Do you think Jenna would like these?”
“I have no idea. They’re some of our favorites, though. So we might as well get them and see what she thinks.”
“What fruit do you think she was talking about earlier? There are a few here.”
Zanyr lifted his wings in a shrug. “Get one of each? It’s got to be one of these.”
His comm buzzed at that moment, and he fished it out of his pocket. If the council was calling another meeting right now, he’d refuse to attend.
It was an incoming call from Jenna. Audio only. “Hello,ana-thi. You miss us already?”
Silence. “Jenna?” he called her name.
He heard a distant sound, a single word spoken in a barely there whisper that made his blood run cold. “Help.”
He spun on his heel and ran back toward her house. As he ran, he kept calling her name, but the line stayed quiet. Even running flat out, it felt like an eternity before he reached her front door.
It was locked.
