Page 5 of Breakaway
I flip through a few of the notes on my comm as I make my way through the main ship and head toward the smaller ship that acts as my personal space and transport. We each have our own private ships that we use to get to our destinations when doing separate jobs. Knowing Isha and Kolos are staying on the main ship means we'll meet back up with them docked on some party planet when we're ready to reconvene.
My shadows are all bunched up on my shoulders as if they're reading my comm as well. It would be funny if they weren't getting in my way and making it impossible for any of us to read the damn thing. I swipe my hand in front of my face, earning me irritated mutterings from a few of them.
"If you want me to read it, then get out of the way," I tell them.
They immediately comply. For some reason, they're more invested in this job than they've been for any before.
Swipe. Next. Swipe. Boring.
I flip through the documents, trying to find what they're all so eager to look at. They keep talking over one another, various forms of speech that all equate to, "swipe faster, body we share a mind with."
Stop!
They all screech in unison so loud I swear it's vibrating my brain inside my skull. I scowl and curse at them, but they're not listening to me anymore. No, they're all crowded around the screen like a frame around it, their little smoky tendrils gliding across the image, taking up one half of the screen.
It's an image of the woman I'm being tasked with protecting. Most of her face is covered by a mask, a variation of which she wears when out in public as her anonymous persona. Her light red hair is styled in waves of curls, the fringe of them hanging like curtains to frame her masked face. As much as her mask covers her face, the clothing she wears does the opposite. Not that I've ever really noticed or cared about that kind of thing until this photograph. The brightly colored body suit she's wearing leaves her legs on full display. Sequins and gemstones adorn the suit, and fringe hangs from the hem, swaying in motion as she poses for the picture. She has curves, so many of them that I can't help but wonder how soft she is. I tear my gaze away from her legs, forcing my shadows to do the same regardless of their grumbling.
Pretty.
The single thought comes from multiple shadows, and I close out of the image immediately. Finding someone attractive is, well, that's new. I stare at my reflection in the black screenof my comm. My shadows are swirling all around me, acting more lively than they ever have before. They're talking over one another, but they're talking to each other, not to me, and I don't try to force myself into their conversation. Not when I'm trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do with my thoughts.
"You good?"
I look behind me to see Skia looking at me with furrowed brows, his shadows looking completely still compared to the swirling, dancing mess mine are making in the air around me.
"I'm good," I tell him, offering him little else.
He stares at me for a moment longer, and I feel him pressing a tendril against my mind, tapping against the barrier we're taught to surround ourselves with so other Sombrans can't get into our thoughts unless we want them to. I mentally push him away, and it's a good enough test to make sure I'm fine to be left alone. He doesn't comment on trying to pry before turning down his hallway.
"Are we good?" I whisper toward my shadows.
They continue their chatter, ignoring me altogether. I clench my teeth, telling myself that I'm not about to let whatever this is cause the first failure of a job this security company has ever had. So long as my shadows don't cause issues and listen to me, we should be fine. I'll just ignore their chattering and pretend they're not talking about stuff they don't want me to know about.
CHAPTER 3
REESE
Breaking News! Empress was seen with not one, not two, but three Lokans when leaving her apartment this morning. Someone's got to ask, how many is too many in one night?
My nails are destroyed. It's been over three years since I've had trouble with biting them, but in the last few days, I've done nothing but chew them down to the quick and then wonder why they hurt so bad. As if it's some surprise that they're in pain when they're red and chewed down to stubs.
The door to the conference room opens, and I jump in my chair, head whipping around fast to see who it is. I've been jumpy since the break-in. I've also had Marr or one of the other Lokans check my apartment multiple times during the day and before I go to bed every night to ensure no one has somehow snuck inside.
I gave up on my rule of having them stay in the other apartment. They don't all three stay in mine. They take shifts just like they would've if they were watching me from across the hall.
Mauve told me that as soon as my new security detail arrived, he'd take charge of the whole thing, and it would behis discretion on who stayed where and what shifts they all worked. Marr didn't seem to mind that he was being demoted. If anything, he'd been a little surprised when Mauve told him she had hired a Sombran.
"I have Jeanette getting us some water," Mauve says as she enters the conference room.
She's looking at her comm, which is good because I hate that she would've seen me so jumpy. Hell, she can still see me slowly falling apart the more and more sleep I've gone without. I chew on my thumbnail, even though there's barely anything for me to gnaw on.
"Water will be good," I say, swallowing as I turn back around in my seat. I want to be stronger than I'm feeling, and I want to present myself as though I don't feel like I'm being exposed every second of every moment.
"Before your new security gets here, we need to talk about the part of this I was waiting to tell you until I was sure whether or not it would help your situation," Mauve says, but my gaze remains fixed on the conference room's windowed walls.
When she came inside, I turned to face the door so I wouldn't be surprised again, and in doing so, I was given a great view of the hallway. The same one where Marr is talking with a human-looking alien.
A tight, burgundy shirt clings to the swell of the stranger's biceps. His blond hair is pulled back in a knot on the back of his head. He's smaller than the Lokan in weight, but their height is the same, and both of them would be able to tower over me and intimidate anyone who might want to get near.
