Page 9 of Songbird
I’d visited Jala and Praxxan’s apartment a couple of times previously, each time finding myself in awe of its sleek, modernistic design. A large window offered a breathtaking view of the dark expanse of space, making it feel like we were floating among the stars—which I guess we were technically. The sleek lines and minimalist decor gave off a sense of sophistication, like something one would find in an architectural magazine. It was a perfect blend of futuristic and stylish, and yet somehow homey.
A luxurious, long, white fur sofa stood in the center of the room. In the corner, an otherworldly version of a piano caught the light with a multitude of twinkling keys. Behind us, just outside the kitchen, stood a table adorned with the remnants of the delicious food Jala brought in. We never did make it to the restaurant.
Kayzon did not take Tarrick’s claiming me as his mate very well. The beastly face twisted into a snarl, and he accused Tarrick of lying. After that came the requisite growling and chest-thumping from all parties. Thankfully, Praxxan arrived with a handful of guards before things escalated into an all-out brawl.
Priemba excitedly recounted our adventure to her father, painting her uncle's actions as nothing short of heroic, with which I wholeheartedly agreed. Then Praxxan split us up like misbehaving children sent into time out. The guards escortedTarrick, Priemba, and I to the apartment while Kayzon and his cronies were carted off to Praxxan’s office for questioning.
I sat in the middle of the plush, fur-covered sofa, my stomach churning with nerves and the small amount of food I had managed to force down. Tarrick and Priemba, seemingly unaffected by my malady, happily indulged in their lunch. The savory aroma of grilled meats and spices wafted through the air, making my mouth water even as my stomach protested.
When her mother arrived, Priemba eagerly launched into the tale of our recent escapade. But Jala’s expression remained stoic, unimpressed by the story. With a stern look, she sent Priemba to her room to complete her homework despite the girl’s scowls and reluctance. When Jala turned her angry golden gaze on Tarrick and me, I had an overwhelming desire to follow Priemba.
“Tell me it’s untrue. Tell me that Kayzon just misheard, and you did not claim Izzy as your true mate.” Jala’s displeasure with Tarrick was evident, and it rankled me a bit.
Granted, it shocked the hell out of me to hear those words come out of his mouth, though I didn’t mind the ruse. Tarrick made me feel protected, something I hadn’t felt in what seemed like an eternity. He made me feel safe.
“Oh, it’s true,” Tarrick quipped, leaning back against the cushions and crossing his hands behind his head.
We sat close, our bodies not quite touching but near enough for me to feel his warmth. There was a subtle vibration emanating from his chest, like the purr of a contented cat. The tip of his tail tapped out a tempo on the cushion next to him, but it had calmed since earlier—when the appendage seemed to have a mind of its own.
“I cannot believe you did that.” Jala eyed him incredulously. “Have you lost your mind?”
Tarrick seemed little affected by his sister-in-law’s ire. “I figured a lie was better than starting an all-out brawl... especially with the Kerzak.”
“A brawl would be easier to handle,” Jala huffed.
“Speak for yourself,” Praxxan told her as he came through the door and headed straight for the leftovers.
Jala took in his words with a faint growl.
“What’s the problem?” Tarrick sat up, resting his elbows on his knees and glaring at Jala. Even seated, he was a good head taller than me. “Alliance law states that a true mating claim supersedes any prior claim or agreement if the prior claim or agreement in action would keep the mated pair apart.”
So that’s why he claimed me as his mate. A brilliant move, although the small ball of disappointment knotting my stomach felt strange.
“I know the law is valid,” Tarrick continued. “One of Siemba’s operatives used it to free a Ntavian from slavery on the Akkarat moon. Besides, Kayzon’s slave claim won’t stand now that Alliance claims Earth as a protectorate.”
Jala huffed, waving Tarrick’s words away with a flick of her long fingers. “Kayzon isn’t claiming Izzy as his slave.” Her golden eyes centered on me and narrowed. “He’s claiming they have a binding employment agreement.”
“That’s bullshit!” The words burst from my lips before I could stop them. Although both Jala and Tarrick took my outburst with a hint of amusement. “Kayzon nearly killed me. I would never agree to anything with him.”
Jala’s piercing golden gaze locked onto me for a long moment, her eyes searching and calculating. With a sharp gesture, she grabbed a datapad from the nearby table and began tapping away. After a few tense seconds, she turned the screen towards me, revealing a document written in an alien language that I couldn’t decipher. It spanned three pages, each filledwith intricate symbols and characters. But at the bottom of the last page, I recognized something familiar—a fingerprint, bold and stark against the white background, as if made with blood instead of ink.
Tarrick leaned close to read the document, his shoulder brushing mine. I tried to ignore the warmth traveling over my skin at the touch. Nothing to get carried away about—it had just been a long, eventful day.
“What does it say?” I whispered.
“It’s a standard employment agreement,” Tarrick said, although his dark eyes narrowed the more he read. “You agree to work for him as a singer in exchange for room, board, and one hundred credits a year.”
“Doesn’t seem like much of a deal,” I muttered. The last concert I gave, or would have if the aliens hadn’t abduced me, paid six million.
“Is that a fingerprint?” Tarrick asked when he reached the end of the document.
“Kayzon is claiming it’s Izzy’s fingerprint... in blood.” She flipped the datapad closed and tossed it onto the table. “I’ve already checked it against theBardaga’smedical records. It’s valid.”
“No!” Heat and clamminess rushed over me in equal measure. “I didn’t agree to that.” My mind reeled, trying to recall any instance where I might have been complicit. There wasn’t one, which left only one explanation to my mind. “Kayzon kept me drugged when I wasn’t singing. He could have gotten my fingerprint anytime, and I would never have known.”
So, that was his plan. To claim I’d entered into a working relationship with him of my own accord—like a record company from hell. Suddenly, despite Tarrick’s nearness, I felt chilled to the bone.
“I believe Izzy,” Tarrick slid closer, and I felt the brush of his hand on my lower back. It felt strangely calming, especially given the situation. “You didn’t see how terrified she was of Kayzon. No way would she agree to work for him.”
