Page 112 of Tempting Cargo
Me, flanked by Tokoran and Daiytak.
My hologram spoke. “My name is Shohari mai Tasra, captain of the trading shipDorimisa. My companions arehybrids known as shaa’ith. As is my brother, who my parents keep secluded within their enclave home.”
Mother paled. “What is the meaning of this?”
I forced a sweet smile. “Shall I play it again? Or did I not enunciate enough for you?”
Her pinched expression deepened, but she said nothing.
“It means your games are over, Mother. No more hiding. No more drugging. Airida doesn’t have any kind of genetic condition other than having some shaa genes.” I sent a silent apology to my brother for telling him this way.
I didn’t want to believe Mother’s doubt was genuine, but her headspines sank, her knees bowed, and even her tense fury faded.
She looked old, I realised. Old and tired, the bitterness and manipulation she’d nurtured all these years written in every sour line on her face. I felt nothing for her but pity.
“Hedoeshave a condition,” she said, her voice low. “He is ill. The doctors ran tests.”
I kept my face impassive. “No, Mother. Either you’re lying, or the doctors are lying.”
“It is preposterous that he… what you said. Absolutely horrific. Impossible.”
I peered at her, studying her face. She really didn’t know. She really thought he had a genetic condition.
Where were the others? Tokki and Daiytak were supposed to be here for this part.
We all stilled as the staccato thuds of weapons fire resonated from deeper in the house. My mind blanked out with apprehension.
Yet as I stalled, Mother gathered herself together. “Guards!”
Rokharu stepped from my side. “Madame, keep your guards with you. You should remain protected. Let me investigate.”He gave my arm a squeeze and thrust his hand at one of the mercenaries. “You there, give me your weapon.”
He was a diplomat, I recalled. Used to being obeyed—and it showed.
Armed with a military blaster, he left, and I had to trust he didn’t mean to use it.
The gunfire had stopped, and all we could hear was the dull murmur of angry voices. Birds singing outside in the gardens. Footsteps.
Rokharu burst back into the room, not one pale headspine out of control. “The prisoners have escaped,” he said. “But they want to talk. Madame mai Tasra, I recommend you hear what they have to say.”
He glanced at the holo on the wall, and I had to hope the shaa’ith were on their way.
I didn’t trust Mother not to send the guards in, but she flashed him a scant smile. “Thank you, Master fei Sinla. Very well. Guards, remain alert.”
Rokharu returned to my side but kept his blaster trained on the door.
Feeling sick but keeping up the charade, I placed my hand back on his arm. My heart pounded as the reassuring clomp of station boots drew closer, and familiar faces came cautiously through the doorway, weapons ready.
I let out my breath in a rush. Gods, it was good to see my crew—my extended crew, all five of them—armed and unharmed. When I let my eyes rest on Garrison, alive and safe, I swallowed thickly.
My mate.
He gave me a nod but didn’t give anything else away, his face emotionless as he regarded Rokharu.
My bones sang for him, but there was no time. I wrenched my gaze to where the guards stood, blasters drawn. “Put your weapons down. You’re outgunned, and she doesn’t pay you enough to die for her.” Hesitation played out on their faces, and I took a step towards them. “I assure you, if you wish to act with integrity, youwillput your blasters down and listen to what we have to say. You’ll realise I’m right, then you’ll forget what you heard.”
I let my eyes drift over to Garrison again. Strong, confident, beautiful. It was only now he was here I realised how much being separated from him had hurt. Like a part of me being outside my body. Like my soul screaming in my bones.
I swayed on unsteady legs and caught a ragged breath.
