Page 122 of Decadence

A scream caught in her throat, unable to erupt because her heart was pounding so damn fast.

And just when she thought she would pass out from the sheer terror, Ikriss landed with a soft thud on the thick snow, and he was smiling.

“A little warning next time,” she gasped as he gently set her onto her feet. They had landed on the empty sidewalk, just a few meters away from the entrance of her restaurant.

The street was eerily quiet. There was no traffic; no pedestrians. A pair of stone-faced, heavily armed Kordolian guards stood at the entrance. As soon as Ikriss appeared, they snapped to attention, giving him a resounding fist-on-chest salute.

Ikriss gave them a sharp nod before diverting all his attention back to Sienna.

His intense focus sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. No human could ever look at her like that.

With gentle but efficient hands, he straightened the collar of her jacket and adjusted the thin cream-colored scarf that was draped around her neck. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The clothes she was wearing were made from some sort of soft and stretchy Kordolian fabric, which, despite being fairly thin, was impressively warm.

Ikriss was still smiling.

“What’s put you in a good mood all of a sudden?” she asked, trying not to feel horrified that her once cozy and welcoming restaurant had been transformed into a bleak guarded fortress.

The tables and chairs that usually sat on the sidewalk were gone. The lights were off.

What the hell is going on?

Where’s my goddamn hygge?

“The weather is good here,” he grinned. “Come. Let’s go inside. I trust my men have taken good care of your empire while we have been away.” He put an affectionate hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the entrance. Although he was being impossibly gentle, she still couldn’t shake the impression that he was in a hurry.

One of the guards said something to him in Kordolian.

Ikriss’s entire demeanor changed; he became as sharp as a blade as he snapped orders back to them.

Sienna couldn’t help but notice how different he was with her, compared to them. It was almost as if he was two entirely different people.

They passed through the main dining area, which was empty.

From what she could make out in the darkness, her plants were still alive, thank the stars.

All the furniture was intact, all the pictures were still on the walls, and a pleasant smell wafted from the kitchen; the smell of freshly ground coffee mingling with… cinnamon donuts?

There was no trace whatsoever of the terrible violence that had been wrought by the silent assassin… and Ikriss himself.

It was all so serene.

Ikriss led her past the front counter, down the corridor, and into the kitchen, where the lights were still on.

As they reached the doorway, Sienna stopped. Ikriss hovered just behind her, a calm and reassuring presence despite the bristling sense of urgency that surrounded him. It was as if he was content to put all his majorly important, deciding-the-fate-of-Earth tasks aside to ensure she was comfortably settled.

She looked around at her kitchen.

It was perfect.

Everything was as it had been… before the storm.

The benches were gleaming. All her machines and pots and pans and equipment were in their proper place. The was no sign of the dark blood and destruction that had been her last memory of the Whisk and Pin.

Her micro-herbs were there in their little containers, looking verdant and well-cared for, almost seeming to glow green under the little UV grow-lights.

And in the corner, sitting at a little side-table with espresso macchiatos in their hands, were Emmett and some hardass looking Kordolian military guy whose face she vaguely remembered from before.

“But I don’t know what the point is, really,” Emmett argued, taking a delicate sip of his coffee. “We have everything we need here on Earth. As long as we manage our resources properly, there’s no need for space mining.”

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