Page 24 of Alien's Heart
“He means me. My kind,” Ruth said with a tired sigh. She had been reluctant to go inside the tavern. Now Nox understood why.
Ruth had warned Nox that venturing into town came with risk. He expected more unhygienic displays, not an outright refusal of service.
The male behind the counter spoke. “You’re an ebony widow. You should leave.”
“It is black widow,” Nox said. “Whoever taught you that phrase was incorrect.”
The male’s eyes shifted left, then right, looking anywhere but at Nox’s scowling face. “It is common knowledge.”
“It is a lie,” Nox said. He did not need three guesses to figure out who’d been whispering poison in this male’s ear. Geral. The male never seemed to rest. “You know better than to listen to those who hold a grudge.”
“I know enough not to trust an outsider.”
“It’s fine. We should go,” Ruth said in a defeated tone that made Nox’s blood simmer. “We’ve got errands, and there’s a storm coming.”
“Absolutely not. You are thirsty, and your credits spend as well as anyone’s,” Nox said.
“I don’t want any trouble,” the male said.
“Surely you are not suggesting that we will disturb your many customers,” Nox said, gesturing to the near-empty tavern. The only other customers, a group of three playing dice, looked up when Nox spoke.
The male’s gaze traveled from Nox to Ruth and back at Nox. He paled at Nox’s scowling face. “One drink, then you go.”
“Perfect,” Ruth said, placing an order.
Nox sat at a table that allowed him to position his back to the wall. Before long, he accepted a tall glass of cold iced tea, wrapping his hands around the glass. Water beads trickled down the side. The summer heat was brutal. He was used to a controlled climate that was never too warm and never too cold. Extreme temperature fluctuations in space were a sign some vital components had failed.
Here, planetside? It was always hot. The air was dry and warm when the sun rose and remained so until the sun dipped below the horizon.
Nox assessed the tavern and the occupants while Ruth checked messages on her comm, scrolling through screens. He felt eyes watching him. That was fine. He’d watch them right back.
The three occupants at the nearest table played a dice game. Two Corravians, one human. They spoke in hushed tones. Dust and sweat stained their shirts. These were people who came inside to escape the afternoon heat. One or two had the worn, exhausted look of souls committed to drinking their days away. It was a familiar scene. Replace the farmers with dockworkers at the end of their shift, sprinkle in the odd smuggler, and it was enough to make Nox homesick.
Nox drained his glass, refusing to think of home. Not that he ever had much of a home. Uncle Ashen hadn’t been the nurturing sort.
He liked the home Ruth had made. He liked the way the chairs creaked and the way the morning sun crept across the bedroom floor. The air always smelled fresh. He even enjoyed the way his bed sagged in the middle. It wasn’t fancy, but it was comfortable. Inviting. The imperfections of the scuffed paint and the worn furniture were part of the charm.
Nothing in Ashen’s home had been inviting. Home was a generous way to describe the spotless and pristine suite of rooms his uncle kept. Wherever they traveled, whatever station they were on, the suit was the same with a monochrome decor, all glass and cold metal. No fingerprints allowed.
It didn’t matter. Home had always felt more like a person than a place. When he was a young kit, home had been his mother. Then home became—
Nox shook his head. Dwelling on the past did little good. What was done was done. He needed to focus on the present.
The occupants at the nearest table no longer made an effort to keep their conversation between them. That was a mistake. Nox heardblack widowandwho does she think she isandshameless. Their dice game, it seemed, was long forgotten.
Ruth’s posture stiffened. She continued to look at her comm screen, but it was obvious that insults affected her.
Unacceptable.
He’d give the prattling fools until he finished his beverage before delivering an etiquette lesson. That only seemed polite.
“One moment,” he said. The tavern fell silent as Nox stood.
Ruth placed a hand on his arm, freezing him in place. “What are you doing?”
“They dare to speak about you,” he said in a tone that implied his actions were obvious.
“Leave them. They’re just running their mouths.”
