When he walks away, she looks up at me. “I want you to do that, too, just don’t get caught. Report back to me.”
I nod as a tone comes over my wristband and an AI voice says, “Elix, Zariah wishes for you to escort her to the lunch hall.”
She can’t have figured out it was me.
“Go.” Rosy motions me out. “Give us a chance to look into this, some time for things to settle, and more for security to move in before you try to convince her to leave. It’s safer for you both, after that stunt you pulled.”
“I did not consider trying to show human strength when Zariah was at risk.”
“I know. But now the whole galaxy knows something is different about you.” Rosy gives me a warning glance and shuffles off to where her guard speaks with squad leaders.
I have to stay focused on protecting Zariah. I need her to trust me. But it’s getting harder to not fall victim to the growing desire I have to make her mine.
I ponder the consequences of exposing who I am to her. But with the human skin tone concealer, I think it’s best if no one finds out I’m an alien, not even her.
On my way to her room, I pull up my collar and draw my hat down hard over my head. I want to tell her. But if anyone sees me, I’ll only bring more attention to her. Zariah deserves much better treatment and a lot more respect.
11: Elix
I find her assigned room and spin around outside her door, one hand holding my other wrist, ready but not looking for trouble.
As her door opens, I notice a fight at the other end between a Talhuskin and a blue-violet, loose-skinned Serrin with slender fins all over its body. I motion for her to stay, wait for the ABR officers to get them under control, and then wave her out.
I cannot speak except for a whisper, or she might unmask me. I’m not sure throwing another wrench in her life right now is best.
When I nod toward the lunch hall, she hesitantly leads.
“What do I call you?” Zariah asks.
I shake my head.You don’t need to know.
I stay close as we approach the doors of the quiet lunch hall. She orders at the counter while I stand off to the side, watching the few other racers quietly talking in the booths.
“Don’t you speak?” she asks me as she sits to eat.
I post up behind her, leaning against the wall, eyes on everything but her. She is my most precious client. It is depressing to watch her eat alone and to not be able to sit with her as if we are friends.
We are friends, just can’t be right now.
Right?
But I didn’t protect her during the race, not like I wanted to. It doesn’t matter that I wasn’t allowed to. Shame still cools my core.
I don’t deserve her.
A door from the alien wing opens abruptly. The Ginarigon male who initially tackled Zariah struts in, his rough brown armor clicking together over his chest and legs. He scans the room, finds her, and storms toward us.
She makes a noise that tells me she’s spotted him.
I step out into his path with one thought.Protect Zariah at all costs.
The prospect of life without her in it is an emptiness I don’t want to face.
He tries to swipe me aside. But I block his arm, grab it, spin him around, and bind him in a headlock. I lean close enough that I know he’ll hear me clearly in his pointy ear. “She’s not interested in your kind. Go find a pink.”
Then I shove him away from her with a boot between his shoulder blades.
“You can’t do this!” he retorts.
